Neon
by BeautyHeldWithin
Summary: AU.  Las Vegas is nicknamed The City of Despair by the people who actually live there. Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson are two lost souls wandering the streets and they could help each other, if they didn't hate each other from the first night they met.
1. Competition

**Well, this is it, my new fic. This is almost completely opposite from OIABM because the innocence that Blaine and especially Kurt had is completely gone. But I have so many plans for this, it's insane. This is completely AU by the way, meaning the characters did not all go to high school together! ENJOY!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

There were many people in Las Vegas that Kurt Hummel hated, but he wasn't sure he hated anyone more than the owner of the motel in which he lived.

"Hummel, if you think I can't fucking smell that in there, you are out of your mind," a loud, rough voice came through the door, "I told you once, kid."

Kurt flinched, but threw his cigarette into the toilet, "I do live here, you know," he called back out, flushing the toilet.

"Yeah, yeah kid. You live in my hotel, paying less than half of what a paying customer would, and you think you can make your own rules? You can get the fuck out." The man's fist slammed against the outside of the door again, Kurt could imagine his sweaty face and thick fingers covered in gaudy gold rings. "My way or you're out, Hummel!"

"Fuck you!" Kurt yelled again, double-checking to make sure the chain was across the door. He sighed and grabbed a black tank off the floor, sniffing it quickly. "Shit," he groaned, it smelled like beer. All of his clothes smelled like beer or cigarettes.

Which he hated, but they curbed the hunger pains.

Walking over to the broken dresser, he pulled his last new black tank top out of the pack. He sighed quietly, this one would have to last him a whole week until he could get money to buy a new pack or at least scrape up enough change at work to do his laundry.

Rushing through his small room, or "apartment" as he called it to his coworkers and friends, he grabbed his still-damp tight black jeans and briefs from the stained armchair.

He quickly put them on with only minor discomfort. He was used to shower washed clothes by now. It was nearing six and he did not have time to search the room for a dryer pair of pants. If he was late to work, Shelby would cut off parts he held very dear to himself.

In the bathroom, he leaned toward the broken mirror, quickly lining his eyes with a thick coat of black eyeliner. He smudged it as he went out the door, wiping his fingers on the inside of his pockets. He flinched at the stench of the air – he swore even New York had fresher air to breath.

Kurt's boots crunched against the stones as he made his way behind the motel. The sign on the fence read "Park at your own discretion – management is not responsible for stolen cars." Kurt grinned a bit as he quickly twirled his combination into his bike lock. Pulling the bike free, he jumped on it, thanking god that it was not raining, because riding to work on a bike with a bright yellow parka on was about the biggest hit his dignity could take.

He pedaled quickly to work, cutting through the grass on the sides of the bigger roads, the lights from the city being the only direction he needed. One day, someone would catch him riding a bike on roads he was not supposed to go, and he would pay, but he hoped he would get enough money gathered up under his mattress to get a crappy little car before that day.

When he finally pushed his way toward the glowing neon strip, sweat ran down his face, he just prayed that the new sweat resistant make up he wore definitely would not run, or he'd look like a KISS reject.

Shelby would love that.

Kurt's fingers slipped with sweat as he tried to link the bike to the dumpster behind the club, he had to hurry because he was not about to get puke clean-up duty for the third week in a row. It wasn't his fault he lived so far away from the club and was always late: it was in his nature.

Kurt slipped into the back of the club – _Strip_, as Shelby had affectionately titled it, taking away any of the respect most of the workers had for themselves. No matter what they told anyone, it was not a strip club.

Not that it gained them any respect anyway.

"Well, Mr. Hummel, thank you for joining us," Shelby said from her stool on the stage, "You're lucky you are just on time, Santana almost lost her privilege."

Santana shot Kurt a withering look, disappointed that he showed up on time. She went back to filing her nails, this week they were painted a fiery red. Santana was the only person working the club that was born and raised in Las Vegas, and she definitely gave off the aura of it. Everything just rolled off her back, but she has a determination that Kurt hoped she would never lose.

Santana wrapped her arms around Brittany, the blonde girl sitting next to her, she leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Kurt was trying to pay attention and listen in, but Shelby clapped and got his attention.

"Now that we have everyone, I have a bit of an announcement to make," Shelby took a deep breath, her black high heels glinting under the spot light, "I found out that _Strip_ is in the running to be named the best mid-sized club in Vegas. If we get the honor, we will get some money for renovations, and maybe some for raises" her eyebrows raised, "needless to say, that means we are going to have to be at the top of our game when the prospectors come."

Kurt sighed and crossed his legs, knowing this announcement would lead to an onslaught of Shelby's verbal abuse and more training for Santana and Brittany.

Shelby pulled a list out of her bag, "Puck and Sam, we're only letting the best of the best in the club this week. I do not want any more, sad, sloppy, ugly people frequenting the bar. I want the most beautiful women and the most handsome men."

The two boys nodded gruffly. Both were dressed identically in black button down shirts and black pants – Shelby loved black. Every single person, from the bartenders to the bouncers were expected to wear black.

Shelby turned to Kurt, "Kurt, I know we don't usually have you do this, but you're on top of the bar with Brittany and Santana for a number. We need to expand our horizons to other people."

Kurt raised an eyebrow in response, "You expect me to dance on the bar with them?"

"Yes, when you applied here you said you could dance," Shelby said dryly, already halfway down her list of things to say, "are you telling me you can't now?"

Kurt swallowed thickly but nodded, "I can. Of course I can. I just haven't yet."

"Well, Rachel's coming in to teach you a new routine before your shift tonight," Shelby glared at the group, daring anyone to groan at the thought of Rachel coming in to help with the choreography.

If anyone was worse than Shelby was, it was her daughter Rachel.

"You'll be great, Kurt," Brittany said, linking fingers with the boy over Santana, "You'll probably get more girls here!"

"That's exactly what we want, more girls," Shelby smiled at Brittany, she had always taken a liking to the blonde, somewhat daft girl over the rest of the workers. "The more girls we get, the more men will come in and buy them drinks."

"Because that's my core target group," Kurt grumbled.

"Ah, first come the gays, then the girls," Shelby said wisely.

Two hours later, Kurt found himself sweating profusely as he tried another spin.

"Remember, you'll be on top of a bar when dancing to this, so you need to learn to make your movements small, Kurt!" Rachel Berry piped up from beside him.

"That isn't difficult for you to do, princess, but I have a lot more body," Kurt grumbled, wiping his hand and meeting the smudged black eyeliner, "Shit!"

Rachel glared, "Try it again."

Kurt's stomach gurgled unhappily at the thought of using up even more energy, "I need to go smoke," he said eventually, pushing by the three girls and walking out the side door.

* * *

><p>"Blaine Anderson, if you don't hurry up we're going to be late!" Blaine heard Mike yell from the bathroom.<p>

Blaine brushed his hair quickly to the side, swooping it in the perfect curl that he knew Ray Motta would approve of, at least until the humidity of Las Vegas got to his hair, rendering it a curly mess.

Blaine checked his reflection in the full-length mirror and frowned – he had expected to do so much more with himself by the point. His cummerbund rolled a little, and he made a mental note to get it pressed as soon as he could.

Blaine was dressed in black slacks pressed and folded perfectly, a black silk cummerbund, a crisp white shirt with black buttons, and a black jacket. The clothes cost more than the rest of his wardrobe combined, which was good, considering he worked seven days a week and rarely had the chance to go anywhere else.

Blaine ran out the door to meet Mike, his roommate and coworker. "Man, if you make us late I'm going to shove a trombone so far up your ass you will use your arm to play."

"That doesn't make any sense," Blaine said to the bartender.

The man glared but locked the door, "Ray apparently has some sort of huge announcement to make today."

"Does that happen often?" Blaine asked, worried. He'd just secured the job as bandleader at _Champagne_, the newest jazz club in Las Vegas. He knew times were getting a little tough, and he would hate to think he would already have to start looking for another job so soon.

"No," Mike upped his pace as they made it to the street, pushing forward.

Blaine still looked up at all of the lights, amazed by the beauty and brightness. "Do you think anyone is in trouble?"

"Calm down, kid," Mike threw an arm around the younger boy's shoulder. Blaine was only 19, and Mike quickly became like an older brother to him after Blaine contacted him about a roommate posting on Craigslist. "It's probably just something stupid like it always is; a few weeks before you came in he had a meeting with everyone because the girls' pearls were getting too big."

Blaine laughed, but still felt a stirring of doubt in his stomach. He had to keep this job, he had no idea what he would do if he lost it.

He had no one to pay for him, and he was living on the small amount of money he'd managed to gather while he played his way across the country.

The two men slipped into the club to see many of their coworkers already there. "Hey there, Blaine," Mercedes patted the chair next to her while Mike pranced across the room to his girlfriend, Tina.

Blaine sat gently, "Do you know what this is about?" he asked out of the side of his mouth.

"No idea," Mercedes smoothed her hair down, "But I do know that I cannot lose this job." Mercedes was the lead female vocalist, a job she shared with Quinn, a blonde girl who wasn't there yet.

"I'll be the one to go if they are cutting," Blaine reasoned, all of his doubt coming back.

Mercedes laughed dryly, "Not if she has anything to say about it," she jutted her jaw toward the side of the room.

Blaine looked and saw his boss's daughter Sugar waving at him shyly, "Hi," she mouthed.

"Shit," he muttered and waved back. "Does she like me?"

Mercedes gave him a withering look, "Does it look like she does?"

Sugar had a slightly dreamy look on her face when Blaine glanced back over, her eyebrows drawing together when he smiled.

"Shit," he said again, "Mercedes, I'm gay!"

"Tell me something I don't know," Mercedes asked, clutching his hand when Ray Motta came into the room.

Blaine bit his lip and started preparing a list of places he could apply if this really was the end of his first (and therefore shortest) job ever.

"Everyone gather around," the man said, smiling easily at the rather eclectic group of people surrounding him, "I just heard back from the Las Vegas Board of Tourism, and _Champagne_ is on the short list for best mid-sized club. We are going up against _Blue Moon_, the other jazz club, which we will beat easily. We're also going against _Strip_, which is that terrible club where the girls dance on the bars."

Blaine looked to Mercedes who explained quickly, "The club that wins gets more money to spruce up their environment, as well as publicity which usually means more money for us."

"We always come in second," Ray boomed over the whispers, "and this year I want to come in first. So I thought I'd take a leaf out of the pages of people from the Jazz Era…" he trailed off, looking for someone to finish for him.

"He means he wants someone to spy," Sebastian Motta said from the back, stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray on the bar.

"Thank you, Sebastian," Ray said to his son, "Are you taking on the role?"

"Father, we both know that I don't work," the boy said with a smirk, "besides I have a date tonight. The cute boy from the Palm Casino." He walked closer to the group, "But I wouldn't say no to a date with you," he said to Blaine, blowing the last bit of smoke into the younger boy's face.

Blaine fought back his disgust, "No, thank you."

Sebastian smirked and waved to his sister and father, "I'll be back later."

Ray watched his son leave with a look of annoyance, but turned to the group, "Any volunteers?"

No one spoke up, all suddenly looking very busy with their fingernails or checking their messages on their phones.

"Well then," Ray clapped, "New boy gets the job. Blaine, instead of leading the band tonight, you will go to _Strip_ and see what they are doing. Capisci?"

Blaine nodded solemnly, glaring at the people giving him looks, "Should I just head over there now or…?"

"Get to work," Ray snapped at everyone else, "Blaine, come here."

Blaine walked slowly to the man, still feeling a bit shy around him.

Ray through his arm over Blaine's shoulder, walking him toward the back of the club, "Now here's the thing, Blaine, you cannot get caught. I know for a fact that Shelby Corcoran does not stick around her club long, she instead likes to drink in the back and fool around with one of the bouncers. But I need you to go and take notes in your head. Take everything and anything in."

Blaine nodded and straightened out his jacket, "Shall I head over now then?"

"Would you wear that to see pretty girls dance on a bar?" Ray asked with a smile, obviously sensing the boy's discomfort.

Blaine shrugged, "I wouldn't know much about seeing pretty girls dance."

Ray shook his head, "I forget sometimes how young you are."

That is when it hit Blaine – he could work in a Las Vegas club, but he couldn't get into one. "Um, sir, I can't get into _Strip._" This was it, he would get fired.

"I assume you have a fake ID," Ray said gruffly.

Blaine nodded, "I do…"

"I'm not your father, kid; I'm not going to yell at you."

"Thank god for that," Blaine muttered.

"Here's money for a cab, go back to your apartment, get changed, and grab your fake ID. Report back tomorrow." Ray handed him more money than he would need, "Get yourself a drink or something."

Blaine did not want a drink, but he'd keep the money for rent. With another nod, Blaine took off for his apartment.

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><p>Kurt topped the beer in his hand off with some water before sending it down the bar between the high heels of Santana and Brittany.<p>

"Hey cutie," a girl slurred, her red tube top dipping to precariously low levels, "Can I get a sex on the beach?"

Kurt rolled his eyes but nodded, "Sure thing, sweetheart," he said, winking a kohl-rimmed eye at her.

He made the sickeningly sweet drink and turned, the girl shoving a ten dollar bill in his tank top, "Keep the change," she said again, hoisting her top up.

Kurt smiled, "Thanks!" He pulled the bill out of his top and watched the white paper with the girl's number on it flutter to the ground. That was for someone else to clean up.

"Hummel, you ready to shake your ass soon?" Santana asked as she flew over the bar, landing somewhat gracefully in her heels.

Kurt shook his head, "I really don't think it's a good idea."

It was not that Kurt couldn't dance – he knew he could.

Kurt just was not a fan of using his body to get ahead in the world.

Not anymore.

Kurt was filling yet another mug of beer when he glanced up and locked eyes with the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen.

"Hey, what can I get you?" he asked, dropping his voice an octave as he tried to do with all male clients – beer muscles ran rampant against gay men in Las Vegas.

The man stood there, his curly hair falling in his eyes. "Uhm, nothing right now, just thought I'd take a seat," he pointed to the empty barstool.

Kurt smiled widely at him, glad to have something to look at. The man was dressed nicely, in tight jeans with a simple black v-neck and gray cardigan.

He did not look like he was out to pick anyone up though, and Kurt wondered what his story was.

If Kurt was being honest, that was his favorite part of the job. He loved hearing the stories of drunken people who have nothing but repressed memories to spill. It was a Friday, and that meant the bar was full, but on weeknights when it was sometimes slow, he heard stories of those who were broken, dreaming, heartbroken, in love, and some that were just plain angry. He lived vicariously through their stories, often wondering what happened to them when they leave the city.

The rush slowed down, so Kurt walked over to the mystery guest and bent over the bar, leaning his forearms on the sticky surface. "So what's your story?"

The man gulped, and Kurt saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed. Kurt tried to push his attraction away, but it kept rearing back up with every movement of the olive skinned boy.

"I'm Blaine," the man offered, somewhat lamely.

"Kurt," he pulled his arm off the bar and shook Blaine's hand. "Is this your first time in Vegas?"

Blaine just stared at him, his eyes a haunting hazel – they reminded Kurt of an owl. "No, I live here…"

"Oh?" Kurt could not help his curiosity. Anyone who chose to live in Vegas had a story, and it usually was not a good one. There was a reason Blaine lived in Las Vegas, and Kurt suddenly wanted to know why. "Looking for a job?"

Blaine's face showed relief, "Yes!"

Kurt could not help himself, "Are you gay, Blaine?"

Blaine blanched, "Yes!" he said quickly, "But if you think I was checking you out or anything I wasn't…."

"You were," Kurt said with a smile, "But I'm gay too."

Blaine relaxed visibly.

"Now, we do have a problem," Kurt wanted so badly to reach over and touch Blaine, but knew that was strictly forbidden, even if he was flirting.

"Hm?" Blaine asked.

"You aren't twenty-one," Kurt stated, "In fact, I'd be surprised if you are eighteen."

"I'm nineteen I'll have you know!" Blaine spat out.

"Ahhh…temper, temper." Kurt smiled, "You shouldn't be in here Blaine, we could get in a ton of trouble," and lose the award, Kurt added mentally. But he didn't care, he wasn't about to ruin some kids life, especially a cute, openly gay kid.

Blaine panicked, "Look, I'll leave! Just let me go," he stood to leave, throwing a pleading look at Kurt.

"No!" He looked at Blaine gently, feeling a pull of emotion for the young boy that he hadn't felt in a long time. "I won't tell anyone. Just, stay."

Blaine blinked a few times, "You promise you won't tell?"

Kurt nodded, "Well, as long as you fill out a job application."

"Well, there is going to be a free space for a bartender if Porcelain here doesn't stop flirting and do his job," Shelby cut in, pointing to Kurt. "Are you ready?"

Kurt blushed and looked for Blaine's reaction, which was just a small smile. "I'm ready," he said to Shelby.

"Good, then you're on."

Kurt quickly ran over to Santana, allowing her to use his shoulder to get back up on the bar.

"Gentlemen," she purred into the microphone, "and ladies," she added lightly, "We have a special surprise for you. Joining Brit and I on the bar tonight, Kurt Hummel," she pointed to Kurt, who put his hat firmly on his head and threw a wink back to Blaine, who shifted on his stool.

Kurt jumped up on the bar, smiling down at everyone as the beat started. Kurt positioned himself between Brittany and Santana, grinding up against both of them.

Kurt strutted down the bar, pointing to women who were staring up at him, mouths agape. Kurt had to admit, even though he did not find them sexually attractive, the attention still pleased him.

When Kurt got to the end of the bar, the choreography called for Kurt to sit on the bar while Santana and Brittany danced with each other. He dropped in front of Blaine, placing his legs on either side of his body.

Blaine turned bright red again, but started up into Kurt's eyes, his fingers twitching his lap.

Kurt leaned down to put Blaine's hands on his legs, moving them up before snapping up and skipping down the bar for the last few verses.

When the song ended, Kurt was once again covered in sweat, but he was pelted with four or five balled up pieces of paper with numbers, most of them accompanied by a lipstick stain.

Kurt jumped down and headed for Blaine, "Here's an application," he said with a wink, pulling the paper from beneath the bar.

Blaine stood and reached into his back pocket for a pen, sitting back down. He started filling out the application, tapping the pen on the bar.

Kurt got a few more drinks then made his way back to Blaine. He glanced down at the application, but something grabbed his attention first.

Blaine's pen.

"How'd you get a pen from _Champagne_?" Kurt asked is disgust, "It's a stupid uppity, gimmick bar."

"And this isn't?" Blaine said in a huff. "_Champagne_ is a great bar."

Kurt took a step back and stared at Blaine, and it all clicked. "Can I see your fake?" he asked quickly.

Blaine squinted, "Why?"

"Just let me see it," Kurt said, not stepping any closer.

Blaine pulled his wallet out and flipped it open, and Kurt saw all he needed to see. Sitting in the front was Blaine's pass to get into _Champagne_, his employee pass. Kurt recognized it because a few weeks back he had been on a date with the owner's son.

Blaine worked at _Champagne_.

So why was he at _Strip_?

Kurt grabbed the fake ID and flipped it over a few times; he knew if anyone tried to scan it, it would show up as such.

Shelby pushed through the crowd again, and Kurt thought he was going to get Blaine busted. "What's up?"

Shelby motioned him closer, "Be careful, Kurt, I just received word from someone that _Champagne_ is sending a spy over. If you see anything suspicious, get him out of here."

Kurt could not help but let his jaw fall slack, "Will do," he said.

Kurt felt disgust and hatred well up in the back of his throat. He turned to Blaine, who was haphazardly filling out the application.

He had lied.

What else had he lied about? Was he even gay? Kurt suddenly hated Blaine. He hated his hair that probably a lint trap. He hated the nerdy way he dressed. He hated his huge eyes that made him look about twelve.

"Here," Blaine said sweetly, smiling at Kurt, "Hopefully I get the job."

"Yeah," Kurt said shortly, "Hey, are you sure I can't get you a drink?"

"I'm sure," Blaine said.

"Come on, nothing?" Kurt goaded.

"Water?" Blaine asked finally.

"Water?" Kurt asked, a smirk playing on his lips. "DO WE SERVE WATER HERE?" he roared to the bar.

"HELL NO!" everyone answered, Brittany skipping over to see the victim.

"Huh?" Blaine asked.

For a minute, Kurt almost felt bad attacking someone who obviously had no idea. But then he remembered that Blaine was single handedly trying to undermine the competition, something that could take any hope Kurt had of a future away. He grabbed the nozzle and pointed it at the boy, "We don't serve water to spies," he said calmly.

Blaine's eyes went wide.

Kurt doused him in the frigid water, spraying him from head to toe, leaning over the bar.

Shelby clicked over, drink in her hand, "You asked for water?" she said to the now dripping and stuttering Blaine.

"He's the spy," Kurt said hatefully, "and a horrible one at that."

Shelby turned, a new glint in her eyes, "Well then, what are we going to do with you?" she asked, "Should we just turn your name over to the board so you never work in Vegas again?"

Blaine paled, "Please…." he begged, "Ma'am I need this job. I need to work here."

Shelby gave a hollow laugh, "It's a shame, I was going to hire you here. You look young, the girls would like that."

An idea sprang to Kurt's head, "He is young," he whispered to her.

Blaine turned, "You said you wouldn't get me in trouble!"

"Under aged?" Shelby asked, a smile on her lips.

Blaine nodded, "Yes." He figured there was no use lying.

"Puck," Shelby yelled over the music.

The boy turned, moving toward the bar, "Yes?"

"This here is Blaine Anderson, he's a spy," Shelby was looking at the ID she had demanded from the boy.

Puck understood what she was talking about and cracked his knuckles, "You want me to get rid of him?"

"Don't hurt his pretty face too much," Shelby patted his cheek, "But make sure they know not to send another spy over."

Blaine looked frantically at Kurt, "Kurt…help…you know I…"

"I know nothing about you," Kurt said coldly, watching as Puck dragged the short boy through the crowd.

"Good job, Hummel," Shelby said, sipping her drink again.

"It was nothing," Kurt said, turning back to the bar, "What can I get you?" he asked a man sitting on the stool Blaine had just occupied.

Yes, there were many people in Las Vegas Kurt Hummel hated, and right now Blaine Anderson was at the top of the list.

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><p><strong>Reviews please!<strong>

**Also, this won't update every other day like OIABM did, but I will be 2-3 times a week. :)**


	2. Clowns

**Hey everyone! Thanks for your positive responses to the story! I neglected to mention that yes, I am making reference to a few movies that take place in bars/Las Vegas. Also, this is rated M for language and smut...which starts this chapter...but it really isn't too bad yet. Thank you again for reading!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

_Whatever poison's in this bottle will leave me broken sore and stiff.  
>But it's the genie at the bottom who I'm sucking at. He owes me one last wish.<br>So here's a present to let you know I still exist.  
>I hope the next boy that you kiss has something terribly contagious on his lips.<em>

"I hate him," Blaine grumbled, wincing as Mike pressed a bag of frozen peas to the side of his face, which had already doubled in size. "I hate him so much."

"Don't worry, we'll get him back," Mike sighed and looked at the boy's tattered clothing, "You're just a kid and they had to do this to you?"

"I'm not a kid," Blaine shot back, pain making him whimper when he tightened his stomach muscles.

Mike nodded, "I know, I know. You are nineteen. But you are a kid, Blaine, and they shouldn't have done this to you."

Blaine pushed Mike away and stood, "Yeah well they did," he moved slowly toward his bathroom. "I'm going to take a bath."

"Don't leave a ring from the blood," Mike said simply, letting the boy go. Mike knew that Blaine wanted so badly to be grown; he wanted to prove to anyone and everyone that he could live on his own and be an adult. But that did not stop the nagging in his stomach telling him that Blaine was more lost than anything.

Blaine slammed the bathroom door, sliding down it easily, groaning in pain. He did not know why it hurt so badly, the bouncer had not even done that much to him. Blaine could still feel the punches pounding into his back, and he knew his cheek had lines from the bricks Puck held him up against.

Nevertheless, Blaine was used to getting beat up, so this was no different.

He ran a bath at the warmest temperature it would go, wanting to soak and just forget about everything. Blaine looked at his reflection in the mirror, giving a once over to the bruises covering his torso. They really were not as bad as it appeared, he had had worse.

His fingers trailed down his stomach, pushing lightly on the bigger bruises dotting his skin.

Shutting the water off, he slipped into the water and closed his eyes, mechanically moving parts of his body to make sure nothing was hurt more than he thought it was. The only part that really hurt was his hip that was from Puck's initial shove out of the door.

Soon though, the ghosts came. Blaine could not get the blue eyes out of his head, the ones that stared at him with intensity and if he even dared to hope, interest. Blaine tried to erase the image out of his head, the pale skin, the rimmed eyes, and the graceful upturned nose. Blaine could still smell him if he tried, a mixture of cigarette smoke, sweat, and an expensive cologne Blaine could not quite place. Blaine saw the way his hips moved to the music, and the way every man and woman in the club chose him to stare at instead of the two girls beside him.

Blaine wrenched open his eyes, trying to get the image out of his head. The mustard yellow bathroom with peeling wallpaper was unappealing with a man like Kurt behind his eyelids. However, Blaine could not keep it up; he could not even pretend to have interest in Kurt when he had so much he had to do.

Sighing, Blaine got out of the tub and dressed mechanically, went to the kitchen to grab Tylenol, and climbed into bed. He knew sleep would be troubled tonight, a mixture of horrible nightmares, debilitating pain, and haunting blue eyes.

* * *

><p>Kurt breathed a sigh of relief when the door to his motel room snapped shut, the lock firmly in place. It only happened a few times, but once was enough for Kurt to pray to someone he doesn't believe in that he wouldn't get jumped going back to his house.<p>

His stomach lurched and Kurt could not deny his hunger cravings anymore. He managed to snag a few pretzels at work, but his body needed something else, something with protein. He crossed the room in a few steps, stripping his shirt off and stretching. His body was not used to dancing anymore, and it definitely felt like it needed the workout.

Kurt knelt in front of the mini fridge, peering into the fluorescent lighting with some hope. His heart dropped slightly. He had a half gallon of milk that he was positive was sour, a carton of Chinese food that his stomach turned at, and a water bottle that he was saving for the bike ride to work in the heat the next day.

Sighing, he stood and moved to the cabinet and pulled out a can of mandarin oranges. "So much for protein," he muttered to himself and popped the top of the can. He did not even both with a fork, instead using his fingers to pull out the crescent shaped pieces of fruit.

The syrupy fruit doing nothing to curb his hunger, Kurt pulled a cigarette out of the carton and peered outside the door. When he was sure it would be safe, he lowered himself onto the folding chair outside of the door and lit up the cigarette, breathing deeply until he felt the hunger slowly ebb away.

He looked around at the motel, the mostly broken sign illuminating the central area. A few people were stumbling back into their rooms looking completely dejected and helpless. Kurt was immune to the feelings of others at this point, stemming from his journey across the country, his job at the bar, and his life in Las Vegas.

The motel was buzzing with the sound of a loud television, the moans from a couple a few doors down, and a bunch of drunken kids throwing their beer bottles from the second story to the cement ground. Kurt sat up straighter, bathing himself in the shadows so they did not turn their attention to him.

One of the boys was attempting to juggle two empty bottles, "Here's to motherfucking graduation," he slurred, "the four worst fucking years of my life are over!"

Kurt picked up and empty Styrofoam cup that sat on the small table that he used for ashes and toasted the boy. He winced when the bottles dropped, instantly rolled his eyes at the squeal of laughter the boy emitted.

He watched with detached interest as another boy came out to grab the juggler. He could not see the boy, but he noticed that he had curly hair and was somewhat shorter than the other boy.

His defenses down, Kurt allowed his thoughts to shuffle to another boy with curly hair. He tensed, trying to will the regret and sympathy down, but it roared to life in him.

Kurt hated feeling sorry for anyone; as far as he was concerned, everyone's lives were a product of their own planning, plotting, and choices.

His certainly was, at least.

But Kurt still couldn't get him to leave, the way he sat at the stool, his fingers playing with a piece of napkin, his eyes still shining with life that most of the people he talked to on a daily basis lost years ago.

He still had some innocence in him that told Kurt that he had not been in Vegas long, and he surely wasn't going to make it for much longer.

Truth be told, Kurt felt bad about what happened at the club. While he did not know, he could assume that Blaine's life had not been easy, no one came to Las Vegas without fighting tooth and nail to make it somewhere else. He was gay, which meant he was also no stranger to abuse and Kurt so willingly handed him over to Puck for more.

Nevertheless, that was not even why he felt the disappointment in himself creep in and overtake his conscience. Kurt felt the way his heartbeat picked up at the mere thought of the boy. Kurt could not help but imagine kissing his full lips, dragging his tongue over the top lip and his teeth over the bottom. Kurt was devastatingly attracted to Blaine, and that pissed him off even more.

He hated the boy, hated everything about him. He hated his fashion choice for the club, he hated his wiry hair, his short stature, and his incurable optimism that seemed to emanate from behind his comically large eyes.

Stubbing out his second cigarette, Kurt stood and made his way inside the motel room, stripping down to his boxer briefs and slipping into the bathroom. He started the shower, fiddling with the faucet trying to get the weak stream of water to give him some pressure.

He used his fingernail to scrape some of the calcium away, wincing at the sound and feeling, but smiling when he saw the water pump a little more strongly through the showerhead.

He moved into the hot spray, his mind wandering precariously back to the adorable boy who walked up to his bar that night.

Teeth sank into his lip as thoughts stirred around his exhausted mind, dipping sinfully to the young boy, some three years younger than he was. He imagined the wide eyes rolling back into his head, his plump lips stretched thin around his cock, his cheeks hollowed out as he pulled back.. The corners of his Kurt's begin to turn up as his eyes flutter close and his hands begin to slide their way down the flat expanse of his stomach.

He traced down his stomach quickly, feeling the rippling of his muscles under his fingers. He traced them lightly down his hipbones, pressing gently where they jutted out. Kurt leaned against the wall lightly, throwing his head back as he moved his hands back up, teasing himself. He bent down to start washing his body, teasing himself even more.

Kurt smiled at his own flexibility as he realized he was nearly completely bent in half. He dragged his fingertips up the inside of his legs as he pulled himself upright, squeezing his incredibly well toned thighs before stopping just short of his groin. He smiled at the fun of teasing himself.

His mouth twitched as his fingers ghosted over his sensitive cock. His mind went back to the boy in the bar. He imagined pushing him to his knees behind the bar while everyone around him watched the girls dance. He let out a breath he was not aware he had been holding in a harsh gasp as slick fingers made maddeningly slow work of himself. He pushed any feelings of guilt to the back of his mind and pressed harder against the wall of the shower.

His free hand slid back up his well-toned abdominal muscles and over his strong chest, reveling in the feeling of soft fingers on even softer flesh. He bit back a moan from escaping from his already swollen lips, allowing only the softest of whimpers to slip through.

He rubbed a long finger slowly around an already pebbled nipple, his other hand moving slightly faster. He hissed out a small line of profanities as he pinched down hard on his overly sensitive left nipple. Kurt groaned loudly when he picked up the pace again, his head fell gently into the wall, the water running down his back creating an over sensation of feeling.

His teeth sank into his swelling lip as gasps and moans began to fill his mouth. His cock now rock hard in his hand, a smirk arose to his lips as they slowly began to fall out one by one. His hand pumped faster and his hips thrust hard into his touch. The honey eyes filled his head again, so innocent and unassuming.

The room soon flooded with heavy, animalistic pants as his smooth fingers worked their magic, he tried to squeeze his eyes closed more, tried to block the images out of his head, but it was fruitless. He squeezed and twisted his fingers around his long shaft as his other hand massaged his chest.

The thrusts into his hand became more sporadic, a long and high pitch whine slid from deep inside him. Then, he felt the tell tale buzzing in his stomach, the tightening of his balls, his toes curling and his head thrown back carelessly. He was so close.

Without thinking, he slid a hand up to his face and a finger into his mouth, sucking long and hard on two long, slender digits. He flicked his tongue around and round his fingers, making sure to soak them generously with his cheeks hollowing.

"Hmmmm.." He moaned out, a smirk heavy on his lips as he eyes squeezed close and his breath hitched in his throat. He began pumping at his cock more frantically. He lost any semblance of rhythm as he bucked into his hand more

His vision went white as one hand pinched a nipple tightly in between his index finger and thumb as the other squeezed tightly around his cock in one last hard thrust. His vision blurred into white blankness, somewhere far off he heard an oddly high pitched scream of Blaine's name, possibly his own, an octave or two higher than should be possible of a male.

His chest heaved with each shaky breath that fell from his still smiling lips. He breathed heavily for a few seconds, his heart fluttering as the water washed away any remnants.

Suddenly his eyes flew open as he realized what he did. He had said Blaine's name.

"Fuck!" He screamed, punching the wall of the shower, pain immediately radiating through his knuckles and wrist.

Yes, Blaine was attractive, but he was still the boy trying to connive and cheat his way to a win; a win that would possibly change Kurt's life and get him back on track, and for that, Kurt Hummel hated him.

He hated him far more than he found him attractive.

* * *

><p>Blaine sauntered into work the next day, his hair slicked back, bruises covered, and a completely straight walk.<p>

"Well you don't look to bad for a boy who got the crap beat out of him last night," Mercedes commented, fixing the feathers in her hair.

"Let me help you with that," Blaine offered, gently fingers twisting the pins through her curls, "And I'm fine, really. Trust me, I've been through worse."

"So what can you tell us, Blaine?" Ray asked, having listened to the entire conversation, "Any good gossip?"

"They're good," Blaine mumbled, a bobby pin sticking out from between his lips, "But it is incredibly cheesy and hokey."

"The one bartender is cute though," Mercedes offered easily, "but I think he plays for your team," she added under her breath to Blaine.

Blaine nodded, "He does."

The squeal that came from Mercedes mouth caused everyone to stop what they were doing. "Did you get a date?"

"No, he's the reason I have more make up on my face than a teenage girl," Blaine commented, pulling on her hair lightly, "he ratted me out."

"Crap," Mercedes pouted, "Well, Sebastian's always free."

"I'm not a fan of communicable diseases," Blaine deadpanned, glancing over at the boy who was now laying over four barstools.

Mercedes just laughed, "You are well on your way to becoming an old maid, Blaine Anderson."

"That's better than ending up with any of the gay men I've met in Vegas so far."

* * *

><p>"Hummel," Shelby said as soon as Kurt walked into the bar, "I have a job for you."<p>

"Am I dancing again?" Kurt loved the burn in his legs and the feeling of actually getting somewhere with performing, even if it was at such a vapid level.

"No, we are giving _Champagne_ back what they gave us," she said seriously, holding up a suit.

"I am not spying," Kurt said, "after I turned in their bartender, they probably all want to kill me."

"He's the bandleader, actually," Shelby said, looking at her phone, "Blaine Anderson from Westerville, Ohio. It appears that he just graduated from high school," she raised an eyebrow at Kurt, "which means he's all but jailbait so keep it in your pants."

"He's not even gay," Kurt lied.

"He is, says so on his Facebook," Shelby smile sweetly at Kurt, "which we will use to our advantage."

"I'm not sleeping with him so we win," Kurt said, checking his nails and willing his heart to not speed up at the thought of sleeping with the man.

"Because you're above that," Puck hissed.

Kurt glared, but couldn't argue that. "I'd rather spy than sleep with him."

"Spy then sleep with him?" Santana laughed.

"Spy THAN sleep with him," Kurt enunciated.

"Well then it's settled," Shelby said simply, "I have a suit for you to wear so you don't have to ride that god awful bike back to your apartment."

Kurt sighed a little; he was hoping his suit would at least get some use. He didn't have dress shoes though, he'd pawned them for a splurge on sushi with Brittany the week before. Nevertheless, he stood and grabbed the suit from Shelby and went to the backroom to change.

The suit fit him fairly well, it was a slim fit, and Kurt suspected that Shelby rented it just for the occasion. Running and hand down his stomach he grinned at his reflection.

Game on.

* * *

><p>Blaine took a deep breath and let his eyes snap shut for a few seconds to ready himself before he ran out on the small stage of <em>Champagne<em>, "Welcome to Las Vegas' premiere jazz club, _Champagne_," he bellowed to the crowd, waving to a few regular faces in the first rows.

_Champagne_ was actually doing fairly well for such a small club that hosted no chances of gambling. The club was filled to capacity, and Blaine loved the look of excitement on the faces of everyone from the recent high school graduates coming in on fake IDs to the grandmothers and grandfathers who came in on bus trips. "We're going to start you cats off with a few fast numbers," he smiled and motioned to the band, "Please welcome Sebastian and the Saps!" Blaine grinned at Sebastian and pointed to him, leaning against the column, snapping along and grinning down at the crowd. He winked at a few of the women who shimmied at him, laughing at them in his head.

His eyes were currently working the crowd, trying to find any signs of trouble. He caught Sugar's eye as she sat at her private table in the back, her feathers catching the light. He waved to her and she blew a kiss to him. He jokingly pretended to catch it and put it in his pocket.

A tall, lanky man walked in behind Sugar, a fedora placed on his head. The man's profile was lit by the backsplash of the bar, and Blaine knew he would recognize that cute nose anywhere.

Kurt.

Blaine looked down at Mercedes who was swiping some powder on her face, "Cedes, can you go on next?"

She smiled, "Why?"

He motioned back to the man who now perched himself on a barstool toward the end of the bar, "That's the bartender."

"Retaliation?" her eyes glinted maniacally, "I bet Mike could take care of him."

"I could take care of him if I really wanted to," Blaine glared at him, "and that might just be what I do." He ran back on the stage, smiling widely at the crowd, "Ladies and gentleman we have a treat for you tonight, this beautiful little girl all the way from Henderson, Kentucky is here to sing us a few songs. Please put your hands together for Mercedes Jones!" he motioned to the girl who graciously stepped onto the stage waving at the crowd. The lights went down, and Blaine slipped toward the back of the club.

Mercedes let the slow song start, building the suspicion as she swayed to the music. When the music swelled, Mercedes started singing and Blaine reached Kurt.

_Isn't it rich? Are we a pair?  
>Me here at last on the ground<br>You in mid-air  
>Send in the clowns<em>

"Fancy seeing you here," Blaine said, leaning against the wall next to Kurt.

Kurt glanced over at him slyly, "I'm sorry I think you've mistaken me for someone else," he tipped his hat lower and clutched onto his scotch.

Blaine could still see the man's eyes and nose, "Your eyeliner is smudged. I don't think many men wore eyeliner in the twenties."

"Yeah, and you would have been some low class boy working in your parents' market," Kurt snarled.

"I'm hurt," Blaine held a hand to his chest, "An asshole and now a racist? I'd never have guessed." He tried to brush the comment off, but he clenched his fists and tried to remain calm. Something about the pale man made him want to kiss him senseless and beat him to a pulp at the same time.

Something swam behind Kurt's eyes, but Blaine watched the steel wall come down again, the blue going cold. "I'll leave."

_Isn't it bliss? Don't you approve?  
>One who keeps tearing around<br>One who can't move  
>Where are the clowns? Send in the clowns<em>

"No don't," Blaine said silkily, "Stay and enjoy the show. You won't learn anything while you're here, but maybe you could put in an application, we need a bus boy."

"I have a job, thank you," Kurt hissed, downing the rest of his scotch, "where I could be making money right now."

"Oh let's be honest, sweetheart, you don't make that much money," Blaine knew how much the bartenders at _Strip _made, it was notoriously low. He kept his voice in its 1920s style and sidled closer.

Kurt glared at him, "I make enough money."

_Just when I'd stopped opening doors  
>Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours<br>Making my entrance again with my usual flair  
>Sure of my lines, no one is there<em>

Blaine knew Mercedes would finish soon and it would be his turn to go back on stage and sing, so he had to get a few things out to Kurt. "You know, you didn't have to tattle on me to your mistress and her fuck buddy," he said coldly.

Kurt stood, "You know what, you think you are so much better than me because you work here. Well guess what, Blaine Anderson, you aren't any better than me. Just because I dance my way to money means nothing. At least I have talent. You just stand up there and look attractive so all the old women wet themselves and keep coming back for more."

Blaine laughed, resistant to Kurt's goads, "You don't know me, Kurt."

"I know enough about you," Kurt threw a twenty under his scotch glass, "And fix up your make up, the purple around your eye is showing through."

_Don't you love farce? My fault I fear  
>I thought that you'd want what I want, sorry, my dear<br>But where are the clowns? Quick, send in the clowns  
>Don't bother, they're here<em>

Blaine knew he would be in trouble if he didn't hurry toward the stage.

"Blaine," a high, feminine voice said, "I'll go up if you're busy."

Blaine was still staring at Kurt, "Yeah, sure Sugar, thanks."

"Thank you Blaine!" she squealed and surged forward to kiss his lips full on. Blaine blinked a few times then puckered his lips slightly, kissing back.

A shot of annoyance went across Kurt's face, but he settled back into his normal, slightly pissed look. "Was that a nice first kiss?"

Blaine made a show of licking his lips, "Definitely wasn't my first kiss. But at least someone wants to kiss me," he pushed.

Kurt scowled and motioned toward himself, "Do you really think no one wants to kiss me?"

"I don't," Blaine admitted.

_Isn't it rich? Isn't it queer  
>Losing my timing this late in my career?<br>And where are the clowns? There ought to be clowns  
>Well, maybe next year<em>

Kurt winked, "I don't think that's true."

Blaine felt another arm wrap around his waist, "Blaine, is there something I can help you with?"

"Sebastian," Blaine grinned, "This is Kurt."

"Kurt," Sebastian said with disdain, "Kurt Hummel."

Kurt frowned a little, his hands twitching. "Sebastian, nice to see you again."

Blaine blinked, "You know each other?"

"We fucked," Sebastian gave Kurt a once over, "Only once."

"My choice, not yours," Kurt shot back.

Sebastian ran a hand possessively down Blaine's front, "Well, I happen to know you are the cause of my newest babe is sporting a black eye."

Kurt choked on air. "You two are dating? My, my Sebastian, how your taste level has decreased."

Sebastian laughed lightly and ruffled Blaine's hair that was curling around the nape of his neck, "I disagree," he said simply, placing a kiss on the corner of Blaine's mouth. "I have to get back before my sister completely clears the club."

Kurt lit up a cigarette, "Sleeping with the daughter and son of the club owner. Classy."

Blaine pulled the cigarette out of Kurt's hand and threw it in the scotch glass, "You know you can't smoke in here. And I'm not sleeping with either of them."

Kurt looked at his last cigarette amidst the ice, "I don't like you, Anderson."

Blaine seemed taken aback, "Well I don't like you either."

"But you let me stay this long," Kurt pointed out, smiling wickedly.

"Fuck you," Blaine said simply, running out of responses.

Kurt clicked his tongue at Blaine, "Language. What would Mommy and Daddy think? Speaking of which," he pulled up his jacket sleeve, "It's getting late, shouldn't you be home and tucked in bed?"

Blaine grabbed Kurt's arm, manhandling him across the bar, "Get the fuck out of my club. Right now."

Kurt nearly tripped as Blaine pulled him, "Slow down!"

Blaine threw open the side door and pushed Kurt out, slamming the door behind both of them, "Look Hummel, this little game was fun for a few minutes, but I'm done with it. I don't want to see your face back in this club again."

Kurt giggled excitedly, "Ohhh! I hit a weak spot."

Blaine just glared, his eyes completely cold.

"What? Daddy issues? How cliché of you! Let me guess, you tiptoed out of the closet and Daddy started hating you," Kurt knew he shouldn't push it, but he couldn't help himself. "And that's why you're here, Daddy sent you far away so you don't have to ruin the family name."

Blaine let out an animalistic screech and pushed Kurt against the wall, slamming his head into the brick, "Get the fuck out of here, Hummel!" he yelled again.

Kurt laughed, though the pounding in his head did hurt, "I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot more of each other, Anderson."

With that, Kurt sidled down the strip, laughing to himself as he glanced back at a dejected Blaine standing in the ally, breathing heavily and trying to calm his temper down.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews please? I promise things will become clearer as we go!<strong>


	3. Pawns

**Hello everyone! Thank you so much for the great response to this! This is a shorter chapter, but it broke at a natural point. Next chapter - the fun starts. :) I hope you like this, we do see a more human side of Kurt!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

_And after all this time that you still owe  
>You're still the good-for-nothing I don't know<br>So take your gloves and get out  
>Better get out<br>While you can_

"You are fantastic," the man said as Kurt rolled off of him, "Absolutely fantastic."

"Tell me something I don't know," Kurt said with a wink; he tried to ignore the drying sweat and remnants of their activities that coated his stomach and chest.

Kurt stood at the end of the bed, pulling off the condom, not bothering to tie if off and simply wrapped it in a tissue. There was nothing to leak out.

"Was it good for you?" the man propped himself on one elbow, the sunlight streamed in the window and illuminated his body. Truth be told, the man did have a great body. Everything was long, lean, and covered only lightly with muscles.

_Nothing like Blaine_ Kurt thought to himself. Blaine was shorter, stockier, with thick muscles on at least his arms and shoulders.

Really unattractive.

"It was great, as usual," Kurt shot back, stretching before he gathered his clothes to get dressed.

"You leaving already?"

Kurt's lips curled into a smile, "I have to get to work early."

The man gave him a knowing smile, the relationship between them was nothing new.

Kurt pulled his tight pants on.

"Where'd you get that cut?" the man asked with a smile on his face, eyeing up the side of Kurt before he covered it with the tight black t-shirt. "Another conquest?"

"Not yet," Kurt said darkly, searching the floor for his sheer button up. "Have you seen my shirt?"

The man lit up a cigarette, breathing in deeply. "Go get yourself one from my closet. I have too many."

Kurt grinned and walked into the huge closet, his hand dragging down the rack of button up shirts. He got the black ones, arranged by an interior designer no doubt, and peered at the labels.

Dior.

Chanel.

McQueen.

Yves Saint Laurent.

Dolce and Gabbana.

Kurt finally lands on his choice: Armani. He glanced at the price tag and slipped the shirt on, tucking the tag away, careful not to crease it.

He grabbed his own black shirt (Target special) off of the floor and slipped it into his bag. Walking out of the closet, he saw the man still naked, lying on his back, fast asleep. Kurt said a silent thanks that he wouldn't have to go through the awkwardness of goodbyes and slipped through the large apartment.

Glancing at his watch, he realized that he had some extra time, so as he left the apartment he went left instead of right.

Kurt was familiar with the pawnshop on the boulevard, and the men there were familiar with him.

He walked into the packed store, his fingers sweating as he fingered the material of the shirt.

He would not get nearly enough money for it.

He hated the idea of a pawnshop. The workers always made him feel queasy; they made their lives by tricking people and taking their loved items to make money.

This was exactly what was happening; it turns out, when Kurt walked up to the main counter. A man was in front of him, wringing his hands and shoulders heaving.

"Look, just please don't sell it to someone. I know I should have picked it up today with full payment, but I thought I would have more money by now," the man shook his head, and Kurt noticed the hair for the first time.

He knew this man: Blaine Anderson. Kurt panicked for a moment, and was about to turn on his heel and leave, but thought better of it. He was not going to let the boy get in his way. He was going to live his life and not let Blaine Anderson scare him away.

"Mr. Anderson, you could just sell us the guitar. We could give you a nice chunk of change and you wouldn't have to worry about anything," the man behind the counter put his best sympathetic face on.

Kurt was now stuck between his revulsion about Blaine and his revulsion against the man behind the counter.

"No, no. I couldn't sell the guitar," Blaine sighed, and shook his head, "You can't just give me a few more weeks? The club is going to win this award…"

Kurt fought the urge to laugh because this kid actually thought he had a chance to win the award?

"I don't care about your personal life kid. I have a business to run. You either sell us the guitar, give us the money, or we have the right to take your guitar." The man had taken his sympathetic face off and Kurt knew that meant he was coming to the end of his rope – Kurt had been there.

The sound that emitted from Blaine's mouth did something to Kurt's heart. The sob echoed throughout the entire store, but no one really notices; everyone was too wrapped up in his or her own lives.

"Look, I don't have the money," Blaine sounded as if he were just a few seconds away from crying.

"You still have two other options," the man looked at Blaine over his glasses.

Kurt bit his lip and pushed beside Blaine, "Look, you and I both know that you can't sell his guitar. He does not have to pay you back for thirty days. We are protected against things like this," he motioned to Blaine's tear filled eyes and shaking hands. "Do you get your jollies off making poor men cry?"

Kurt heard the intake of breath from Blaine, a mixture of sadness, shock, and hatred. "Kurt…" he started.

Kurt put his hand on the small of Blaine's back to stop him from talking. He tried to ignore the rush of his blood when he felt the warmth and strength in the expanse of skin.

"Mr. Anderson, you have twenty-nine days," the man said calmly, "Now what can I help you with, Mr. Hummel?"

"Thank you, sir!" Blaine said, his eyes wide and shining as he ran out of the store.

Kurt fought the urge to roll his eyes and turned to the man, "Hey Tony. I have this shirt," he held up the Armani, "selling." The men in the store were used to the no-nonsense way Kurt held himself.

The man inspected the shirt carefully, taking in the price tag and the designer label. The store normally did not handle clothes, but when Kurt first convinced them to, and they sold, they had ever since. "I can give you $200."

"It's a $1,000 shirt," Kurt said seriously, "with the tags."

The man pulled the tag off quickly, causing Kurt to panic and look for any holes, "I can give you $200 and nothing more."

Kurt felt his stomach rumble and knew he had to do something. Two hundred dollars wouldn't even cover his rent for the week, let alone cigarettes and food.

"That, however, I can give you more for," the man eyed the silver watch on Kurt's wrist.

"No," Kurt said simply, signing the form for the shirt.

"Come on, I can give you $500 for that, just pawning," the man eyed it, "I'm trying to give you a break kid, take it. That doesn't even look like your style."

Kurt ran a finger delicately around the outside of the face of the watch, "My mom gave it to my dad on their fifth anniversary." He allowed himself a second of vulnerability and then composed himself. "Just pawn it then, I'll be back for it."

"You have thirty days and then it's legally ours," the man warned, "I know it might be hard for you to pay back…"

"No," Kurt nodded quickly, "I need to eat." He slipped the watch off of his wrist, willing his hands to stay steady. "Just pawning," he raised an eyebrow at the man.

"Just pawning," the man agreed, a glint in his eyes.

Kurt bit his lip harshly to stop himself from taking the watch back and just leaving. He didn't need to eat that badly. Nevertheless, he knew it was time to be an adult and to take responsibility for himself. It was not like the watch was gone forever.

He left the store a few moments later, his pockets fuller and the promise of an actual dinner before work in his heart.

He almost ran into a man on his way out, "Sorry," he mumbled, not even bothering to look up. He had a few tears left in his eyes when he felt how light his wrist was without the watch.

"Kurt," the man said, and Kurt looked up with a confused expression.

"Blaine," the word came out harsh, loud, "what do you want?"

The boy stood in front of him, scuffing his shoe on the ground, "I wanted to thank you. I-I….without you there, I would have probably sold them that guitar."

Kurt shrugged, "It just looked like you were a little lost in there."

Blaine sighed and looked down, trying not to pay attention to the tear escaping Kurt's eye, "You know, I'm not some little kid."

Kurt scoffed.

Blaine sighed, "Sorry for trying to actually be human with you."

Kurt laughed hollowly, "I'm sorry that changed when you pushed me against a brick wall."

"You did the same thing," Blaine reminded him.

"No, I had someone do it. I didn't do it," Kurt corrected him, "I have enough friends, Blaine, I don't need another one."

Blaine nodded, "Yeah well, I don't like having enemies."

"Me neither. But I also don't like people pushing me against things," Kurt wouldn't tell him that he had spent the whole night afterwards crying and trying to forget the feeling of the brick digging into his face. Somehow, it had transformed into the cold stick of metal and reminded him of high school. "I had enough of that in high school, thanks."

Blaine laughed a little, "Tell me about it. You know, Kurt, I could use a friend like you here…." Blaine felt alone and forgotten in the city. Sure, he had Mike and Tina, but chances were they wouldn't stay here long – they were both far too talented to stay in the city tending bar.

"There are plenty of gay men in Vegas, Blaine, I'm not going to be your role model," Kurt walked faster.

"Not like I would want you to be," Blaine said coldly, "You know, when we win, your club can use ours to host your closing party. We hold more people anyway."

Kurt turned, "How would you know how many people it holds? It never reaches capacity!"

"It does too," Blaine countered, sounding like a dejected little sister, "and the only reason yours does is because of those two girls. You think people come for you?"

Kurt's hollow laugh caused a few tourists to walk more quickly by the two men, "And what about you, Blaine? You're surrounded by talented people yet you just stand up and open that pretty mouth of yours to talk; because that is all you are Blaine, talk."

Blaine nodded quickly and backed up, "You know what, I fucking hate you."

"We've been over this," Kurt said in a lazy tone, "and I, you. So can we just agree to hate each other or…?"

"You were the one being nice to me in the shop," Blaine was walking away now; he had only meant it as a parting remark.

"Well remind me not to save your sorry ass next time," Kurt said in the same tone, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back toward his club; he no longer had time for dinner, nor did he have the appetite.

* * *

><p>When he got to the club, Kurt was taken into the back room by Shelby.<p>

"Tell me what you know," she said, her large eyes glaring into his soul.

"Not much, unfortunately," Kurt said, "They are good, I'll admit it. But it's so…kitschy and tacky."

Shelby nodded, "I thought as much. Do you think they stand a chance?"

Insult after insult ran through Kurt's head, he wanted to tell her about the hokey bandleader, and the stupid satin walls, but he nodded slowly, "They really do."

Shelby leaned back, "They figured out you were there."

So Blaine had ratted to his boss. "I know."

"Who was it?"

"The boy who I had Puck take care of that night," Kurt tensed at the memory. It no longer stuck out like a victory in his head. He knew Blaine had probably faced some of the same abuse he did in high school, and getting punched by a former football player probably only brought back some of the horrible memories he had.

"Can you play nice with him?"

"Excuse me?" Kurt was not going to go through the events of the previous night again. "No, I cannot."

"Well then you're going home and not getting paid tonight," Shelby said hopelessly, "because Ray Motta and I decided to just get all of you together and talk. Apparently Puck and one of their bouncers got into a fight last night as well."

"Typical," Kurt muttered, not caring if he hurt the woman's feelings about her sex partner.

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing, "Go out there and get everyone together for me okay?"

* * *

><p>"…So what we're trying to say is that this is friendly competition," Ray said in his best politician voice, "and we don't want the spying," he shot Kurt a look but not Blaine, "and the fighting," he glanced at Puck.<p>

"Guys, this is supposed to be fun," Shelby had some life in her eyes as she looked at the large group, Kurt wondered if it stemmed from her own dreams of being a Broadway star – she loved the stage just about as much as anyone he'd ever met. "Please don't let it mess up your lives. One of you almost went to jail last night," she looked over at Puck who was suddenly very interested in the laces of his combat boots.

"Now talk amongst yourselves, Shelby and I are going over some things," he motioned for his employees to talk with the others.

"Oh, social hour," Santana purred beside him, "You can go get that dapper boy's number."

"No thanks," Kurt did not miss her sarcasm, "I hate him."

"Then you can go get in that dapper boy's pants," Santana sat up, straightening her skirt, "Even I'd like to get in his pants."

Brittany walked over to them, "Are you guys staring at that boy too?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, Brittany really would sleep with anyone with a brainstem, "Yes, we are. He's deplorable."

Brittany straightened, "Just because he doesn't understand our customs doesn't mean he's a horrible person, Kurt."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asked.

Brittany skipped over to Blaine who was in a conversation with Rachel Berry about something vapid and meaningless. She simply grabbed his hand and dragged him back to Santana and Kurt. His eyes widened when he saw Kurt sitting there glaring, but he said nothing.

Kurt bit his tongue and held back all insults about Blaine's hair and wardrobe – he really did look like he was out of the Big Band Era.

"We were all wondering how you did it," Brittany said, her eyes wide.

"Did what?" Blaine looked to Santana for help, she just shrugged and looked at Brittany.

"Britt, what do you mean?"

Brittany looked uncomfortably at Santana, "I just…I thought maybe he could help me."

Santana looked to Kurt who offered not help.

"I'm sorry, I'm confused," Blaine said, obviously trying to stay on good terms with the group. "A little help would be nice?"

Santana and Kurt were at a loss for words, so they were actually thankful when Brittany spoke up. "Is your time machine broken?" she asked seriously.

"M-my what?" Blaine looked at the other two for help again. Kurt held in a laugh while Santana looked at Brittany in awe.

"Your time machine. You're obviously from the 1700s or something," Brittany grabbed his hand, "I don't want to go back far, just 16 years."

Blaine knelt down in front of the girl, his eyes swimming, "Why do you want to go back sixteen years?"

Brittany looked at Santana, who just held her hand and smiled encouragingly.

"I'll tell you so you can figure out exactly where to take me. When I was six, my parents brought me here," she said calmly, "and told me to look up at the pretty lights."

Kurt tried to think of happy thoughts, anything to get his mind off of Brittany's story.

"And I looked up and it was so pretty," she sighed, her hand tightening in Santana's, "and when I stopped looking, my parents were abducting by aliens," she said seriously. "They knew they were being abducted, so they protected me with the lights."

Blaine started laughing, "Seriously?" He sat back on his haunches, laughing again at the girl, holding his sides.

Brittany's eyes welled up with tears, "It isn't funny! I never saw them again!"

Blaine stopped laughing, "Wait, you're serious?"

"Yes!" Brittany stood, her hands on her hips, "Now are you going to help me or not?"

"M-my time machine is broken?" he tried, looking to Santana once again for guidance.

"Oh," Brittany said sadly, "Don't you miss your parents too?"

Blaine bristled, "No. I don't."

Kurt could not help the scoff this time.

Brittany nodded, "Okay. I'll be right back," she mumbled.

"Britt Britt, do you want me to come with you?" Santana stood.

"No, I'll be okay," she said quietly, walking toward the bathroom, her shoulders heaving.

"You asshole!" Kurt hissed, "How dare you laugh at her!"

"I didn't know!" Blaine held up his hands, "I mean, aliens, really?"

Kurt wanted to strangle Blaine, "You don't laugh at other people's problems like they don't mean anything!"

Santana put a hand on Kurt's forearm, "Kurt, it probably sounds like a really stupid story to people who don't know Britt."

Kurt still leaned forward and wanted to slap Blaine, "It doesn't matter, he's still an ass."

"I don't counter that," Santana said with a wink toward Blaine, "But he didn't know."

"Can I know?" he asked in a small voice.

"It isn't our story to tell," Kurt snapped.

Santana shrugged, "Well it does involve me."

"By all means then, include him in our lives," Kurt smiled and pretended to be happy when he saw Rachel glaring at him and taking notes on a clipboard. If they lost this race, and Kurt lost his job, the first thing he would do is throw a brick at the girl.

"Brittany's parents were heroin addicts," Santana said simply. "So her story is mostly true. They brought her here, told her to look at the lights, and left."

Blaine bit his lip and sighed, "God, I am an ass."

Kurt nodded enthusiastically.

"You aren't," Santana said gently, and Kurt could tell she liked the boy, "Anyway, she had no family and so they put her in foster care. My mom took her in, and that's that."

"What happened to her parents?"

"Dead," Santana shuddered, "they went back to their hotel room that night and overdosed together. Part of me thinks they were trying to be good human beings when they let Brittany stand in the middle of a city where someone would find her, they just put faith in something that it was a good person. She does not know though. Or she does, and she won't admit it."

"So she fabricated the alien story," Blaine suddenly looked somber, "You know, some people are better off without their parents."

Kurt felt a sting at the back of his eyes, "Yeah, because obviously an asshole like you never had any, you'd know a thing or two about manners."

"Aren't we supposed to be getting along?" Blaine said while standing, "My job means something to me, you know?"

Kurt bit back a retort as Rachel walked by, "Just go away Blaine."

"Freely," he said and turned on his heel and walked over to Sugar Motta who smiled widely and pushed her chest out at him.

"He's such an ass," he muttered.

"Would you like to be the pot or the kettle?" Santana asked.

"Kettle."

Shelby and Ray emerged, "Guys, gather up! Rachel told me how well you were all getting along, so we decided that we should get you all together more, expand your horizons. So next week, we're going to close both clubs and have a party for you all. You don't have to bring anything, I know you are all running low on cash and food. We'll take care of it all!"

Kurt groaned, but he was the only one. Everyone else high fived people from the opposing bar and some of the girls even hugged.

Even Blaine was grinning and talking animatedly with Puck.

Kurt crossed his legs and played with the sleeves of his shirt, if there was one thing Kurt didn't need, it was friends.

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><p><strong>Questions, Comments, Concerns?<strong>

******ETA: It has come to my attention that a lot of people don't understand the pot/kettle reference. Basically, it is from the phrase "pot calling the kettle black" which means Santana was calling Kurt a hypocrite because he too is kind of an ass. Hope that clears it up!**


	4. Checkmate

**I don't have much to say except THANK YOU ALL for your continued support! My tumblr is CrissMeDarren in case anyone wants to follow! I hope everyone has a great New Years Eve! I'll be in NYC!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

_This is how it feels_

_When you wait for a call  
>and it never comes<br>Are you waking up  
>cause you miss someone<br>This is how it feels  
>When the trust you had is broken,<br>And you're left to burn with your heart wide open._

Kurt wasn't sure what moved him to dress up for the occasion, but he decided that it was time to pull out his emergency kit – the clothes he couldn't wear for work that he never had the heart to pawn for money. It was one outfit that he wore to dates or when shopping.

Tonight, it would be the outfit he wore to attract someone. He was lonely, tired, and above all – horny as hell. Though he recently had sex, there was nothing pleasurable about it for him, and it just served to whet his appetite more than calm his raging hormones.

Looking through the hopeless pile of clothes he pulled out, he sighed. Since living in Sin City, he'd lost more weight and now everything was far too loose on him. He grabbed some change out of the jar on his dresser and jogged across the street to the pay phone.

Hopefully it worked.

"Hummel?" the voice asked in a very assertive tone, "That you?"

"Yes, Santana," he paused before whining, "I need help!"

The girl gave a sympathetic whimper, "Come over, we have food."

"No," Kurt could feel himself blush; the girls had given him food on more than one occasion. "I need to borrow some of Brittany's pants."

Santana gave a dark chuckle, "Do you want me to pick you up or do you want to bike your skinny ass over here?"

Kurt pondered for a minute, if he wanted the pants to be as tight as he was imagining, riding on a bike would be impossible. "Can you come get me? I'll just get ready there and we can go together."

"Britt!" Santana squeaked, "We're getting our makeover on!"

"I didn't say that," Kurt started, but he heard the click of the phone and knew his argument was fruitless.

He quickly ran back to the room and gathered his clothing in a backpack and grabbed his rent check. He knew the owner would come around and inspect things if he didn't pay soon, and Kurt wasn't sure he would like what he'd see.

Stepping into the office that smelled of "new car" air fresheners, Kurt sighed when he felt the air conditioning. His had broken three months ago but it was never fixed.

"Mr. Hummel," the man said with a smile, his bushy mustache curling up, "Here to tell me you're leaving?"

"No, I'm here to pay my rent," Kurt slapped the check on the counter, a smirk on his lips. He loved proving the man wrong.

"The rent?" the man just stared at the check. He sighed and appraised Kurt, "do you have enough money for food, kid? I shouldn't even be asking because I know you have enough for cigarettes."

Kurt nodded, "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm not some charity case." He grabbed his receipt and walked out of the office, throwing the piece of paper in the trash.

Santana beeped the horn twice when he emerged, he glanced at the peeling blue paint of the car and sighed in jealousy. He'd do anything for a car. "Get in Kurt," Santana said gently, eying the patrons of the motel. Kurt glanced over his shoulder and saw the man Santana looked terrified of, but brushed it off. "Seatbelt," she reminded him.

"You aren't my mom, Santana," Kurt grumbled but put his seatbelt on and motioned for her to drive.

"Kurt, why don't you move in with Britt and I?" Santana was using her sympathetic tone of voice, and Kurt didn't like it. "It would just be so much easier for you."

"Because, Santana, I'm doing this on my own," he crossed his arms and looked forward.

Santana nodded, the curlers in her hair bobbing together. "You ready for tonight?"

"No," he was still a little angry about her comments, but leaned back in the seat, "I just don't like them."

"You mean you don't like Blaine," she corrected, "he's actually nice. When Shelby had me walk the plans over to their club he got me a drink because it was hot as hell that day."

"He's just a ray of freaking sunshine," Kurt grumbled, "whatever. I'm just hoping another one of their men is gay."

"There's always Sebastian," Santana pointed out with a look on her face.

Kurt kept quiet and just looked at the older homes flashing by him. He wondered again what it would be like to live like Santana and Brittany, in the outskirts of Vegas, in an older apartment with someone he actually cared about.

When the got to the old house, they raced up the stairs. They really only had another hour to get ready, and from the sight of Santana's hair, she needed at least three.

Brittany was already dressed. She wore leather shorts, a striped tank top, and a pink bolero. Kurt saw a black fedora and tie sitting on their table. "Kurt!" she hugged him, "How's your friend with the time machine?" she asked seriously, "because I found someone online who can fix them."

Kurt laughed at the girl and kissed her cheek, "Brittany, right now I need your pants."

"I thought you were a dolphin, but okay," she grabbed his hand and they skipped back to her tiny room.

"No," Kurt laughed, "not like that. I need to borrow a pair of your jeans. Mine are all too big."

Brittany looked at his hips, "Will they fit?"

"Maybe," Kurt skirted around her and looked through her closet, instantly finding the pants he was imagining. They were simple, black jeans, but they were the closest she had to looking at least a little masculine.

Santana leaned against the doorframe, "I have to say, I really want to watch you get into these."

Kurt rolled his eyes but dropped his sweatpants and held up Brittany's pants. They looked small, but he knew if he tried, he'd get them on.

"Baby, you need to eat," Santana looked at his legs. "You look good now, but another two pounds and you'll…"

"I know, that's why we need to win this. So I can afford Ben and Jerry's," Kurt stepped into the jeans and succeeded in pulling them to about his knees. "Oh Jesus," he muttered.

"I don't think prayer will work for this," Brittany said in a hushed tone.

Santana snorted but said nothing.

Kurt grabbed the waist of the pants and started jumping, flailing his legs a little and managed to get them up on his hips after about three minutes.

He wiped a bead of sweat out of his eyes and sighed, "They are on!"

Santana was on the floor laughing at this point, "Your junk was bouncing all over!"

"Speaking of junk," Kurt said discreetly, turning his back to the ladies and adjusting himself. This is why he never wore women's jeans. That only caused Santana to laugh harder. He glared but turned to Brittany, "May I use your bed?"

She nodded, putting various feathers in his hair from her jewelry box.

Flopping backwards on the bed, Kurt quickly popped the button closed and sighed in relief. They were by far the tightest pants he ever wore, and he couldn't really bend, but when he turned, his ass looked fantastic and the pants stretched out after a few minutes.

"Damn Hummel," Santana appraised the man, raising an eyebrow. "Get me drunk enough…"

"Don't even think about it," Kurt rolled the arms of his purple button up to his elbows and opened another button up top. He put his knee high combat boots on somewhat awkwardly, not able to completely bend over. His final touch was the same black eyeliner that he was so used to applying.

Santana met him at the door, she was seemingly poured into a tight red dress. She nodded, "He'll want you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kurt sniffed, walking by her with his head held high.

When they arrived at _Champagne_, Brittany looked at the neon martini and the music notes with a giggle. "They are beautiful," she whispered to Santana, locking hands with her.

Santana smiled at the girl and looked up with her for a few seconds, never letting go of her hand. "Come on Britt," she whispered, "we have to get inside before all of the cute boys are taken by Tight Pants over here."

Kurt threw a wink over his shoulder and sauntered into the small club, laughing when he saw Sam dancing with the jazz singer Mercedes, and Puck feeling up the girl that practically shoved her tongue in Blaine's mouth.

The thought of Blaine made Kurt snap his head around the room, trying to find the plastered down hair or the wild curls. Instead, he saw Blaine in the middle of the dance floor with Sebastian, doing some sort of swing dance that looked more like Sebastian dragging the boy around in a circle.

"Looks like he's taken," Santana purred into his ear, handing him a cup filled with red juice, "drink up. You lost."

Kurt swallowed the juice to give himself time to think, "I don't care who Sebastian dances with, San, that has been over for months."

"We both know who I was talking about," Santana grabbed his hand and took him to the dance floor. Sam and Mercedes, Blaine and Sebastian, and Shelby and Ray were the only people there, and Santana made sure they were positioned right near Blaine. "Follow my lead," she whispered, dancing up and down Kurt's front, making eye contact with Blaine who was sweating and dancing closer to Sebastian.

Kurt put his hands on Santana's hips, knowing the girl wouldn't kill him for touching – they both knew the other was just a prop.

Santana leaned back on Kurt and whispered hotly in his ear, "He's so drunk."

Kurt nodded but tried not to pay attention, sipping down more of the lethal red drink. He knew that he was a lightweight, even though he lived in Vegas, he never cared for drinking.

Blaine, on the other hand, was guzzling cup after cup of the red drink. Kurt wondered briefly if anyone cared that he was underage. He looked around, and everyone else was drunk as well, dancing with enemies, friends, and ex lovers. Sugar was dancing with one of the columns, talking to it and seemingly trying to pull it away.

Santana tensed beneath his hands and steered him toward Brittany, "Let's dance over here," she carefully put her hands on his shoulders and held tight, using him more as a pole than anything.

"I need more drink," he said and broke away from the girl. He ladled himself some drink and started talking to Wes, one of the day bartenders at _Champagne_. The boy was nervous and just smiled tensely at Kurt. Kurt drank a few more full cups and tried to make small talk.

Kurt bored easily and turned to walk back to the dance floor. The world shifted for a moment, and he tripped his way toward Santana. "Satan…." He slurred.

"Damn boy, how much did you just down?" Santana looked at his once again empty cup and furrowed her brow, "and you probably didn't eat anything today."

Kurt laughed and looked over Santana's shoulder, his smirk immediately fading to a grimace, "That slut!"

Santana turned and saw what Kurt was referencing – Blaine and Sebastian were currently in a lip lock that rivaled any either had ever seen. Sebastian was pushing Blaine back against the column his sister was dancing with, causing the girl to run out crying. "Jesus, you let some people have some fun," Santana muttered, watching as Sebastian lifted one of Blaine's legs feel him up. They spun, and Sebastian opened his eyes and glared at Kurt.

"I'm going to get them," Kurt moved and immediately stopped, "Santana, why are there two of you? And tell them both to move out of my way!"

"Kurt, stop." Santana grabbed his arms, "Don't fight with Sebastian."

"Why would I fight with Sebastian?" Kurt asked incredulously, "I'm going to kill Blaine. Sebastian is mine."

"You broke up months ago," Santana reminded him, "he cheated on you with that boy from the Palms' magic show."

"Don't care," Kurt hiccupped, walking toward the boys. "Blaine!"

Blaine pulled off Sebastian's mouth with a sickening pop, "Yes sir?" he slurred, smiling at Kurt, "Want to join in? I wouldn't say no, would you, Seb?"

"I would, actually," Sebastian kept his arms wrapped around Blaine, "Wouldn't want to dirty you up with him, Blaine."

Blaine gaped at Sebastian, "Be nice!"

Kurt lunged for both of them, but Puck who had noticed him headed toward the pair, grabbed him. "Dude! You cannot do this."

It was too late, Ray had already seen the attempted fight. "Blaine, Kurt, I'm sorry, but I can't have this. Everyone else can play nice, so why can't you two?"

Kurt glared at Blaine, "Because he's an asshole!"

"And he's a jerk!" Blaine said with a pout.

"Very mature," Kurt clapped.

"Look!" Ray said loudly, everyone turning to look, "You two are out. Blaine, we'll talk about this tomorrow morning."

Blaine's eyes widened in fear and Kurt snickered to himself.

He'd run the boy out of town yet.

"Same goes for you, Kurt," Shelby drawled, pushing Puck off from her neck.

"Fuck," he said, trying to force tears to his eyes. He couldn't lose his job.

"Now," Ray said quietly, looking at the boys.

They both turned and walk out of the door together.

Kurt sideswiped Blaine, pushing him into the doorframe.

Blaine grabbed Kurt's arm, "What the fuck is your problem?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Save the drama, Blaine." He turned and stumbled again, the ground seemingly moving in waves.

"Shit, you can't go anywhere," Blaine grabbed his arm again, saving him from face planting.

Maybe Blaine wasn't as drunk as Kurt thought.

"Let me go," he said, pushing through a group of senior citizens.

"Excuse us," Blaine said nicely, smiling at the women. "Kurt! You can't walk anywhere!" Blaine watched as Kurt veered off of the pavement, almost falling into a drainage grate. "Kurt!"

"Fuck you, Blaine," Kurt said in a singsong voice, now walking the edge of the curb like it was a tightrope.

Blaine looked ahead and saw two cops with pissed off expressions.

"Shit," Blaine ran forward and wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist, "Kurt, stop squirming."

"Why?" Kurt asked. He saw the cops right after he asked the question. "Shit, Blaine, I can't go to jail!"

"You're about to for being drunk if you don't stop," Blaine stumbled a little. He wasn't as drunk as Kurt, but he was still pretty drunk. "Come on," he moved Kurt down the sidewalk by the cops quickly. "Damn, jail might have done you good. You would have gotten a meal."

"Shut up," Kurt grumbled.

"Here," Blaine pulled money out of his pocket and walked up to a street vendor, "Can I have three soft pretzels?"

"Blaine, I don't want you to take care of me," Kurt warned.

"Just eat, you need to sober up." Blaine nibbled on his one pretzel and watched Kurt inhale the other two.

Kurt ate quickly, and a mixture of the night air and the pretzel caused him to sober up a considerable bit as the two boys walked the strip together.

"I don't need to be walked home," Kurt said as he tripped slightly over a rock.

"You are still drunk," Blaine pointed out, "do you want to go sit at a diner or something?"

"We need money for that," Kurt said coldly, "Come on." He didn't know why, but he wanted to make sure Blaine would at least go home somewhat sober.

He liked having someone to hate.

Kurt led him to the door of _Strip_ and used his key to sneak inside.

"Should we be doing this with your job on the line?" Blaine asked as he closed the door and latched the lock.

"Eh," Kurt turned the lights on and strode toward the bar. "What do you want to drink?"

"I thought the purpose of this was to sober up?" Blaine laughed but pointed to the scotch.

"Big spender," Kurt curled his lips, "let me guess, this is what daddy drinks?"

"You're such an ass," Blaine said, sipping the drink quickly. He walked around the back of the bar and pushed himself up on the counter.

"No," Kurt motioned him toward the front, "Absolutely not."

"Move me, weakling," Blaine held up his hands, "I'm defenseless."

Kurt down his drink, the tequila burning his throat; he moved to get Blaine and stared into his eyes. "Fuck," he muttered when he took in the hazel eyes. "You know, for an asshole, you have pretty gorgeous eyes."

Blaine tried to ignore the blush creeping up his skin, "Thanks?"

"You know, I was going to take Sebastian home tonight," Kurt said thoughtfully.

"No you weren't, I was." Blaine has his hands behind him and grinned lazily.

"Yeah right, like you would fuck anyone without a date," Kurt lit up a cigarette and blew the smoke in Blaine's face.

Blaine grabbed the cigarette and inhaled quickly before stubbing it out. He leaned closer to Kurt and blew the smoke in his face, "Really?"

Kurt knew he shouldn't take the bait, but he did. He surged forward and pressed his lips into Blaine's, instantly fighting for control and thrusting his tongue into Blaine mouth. Blaine bit down quickly on Kurt's bottom lip, pulling it away slightly. "Shit," he said quietly.

Kurt fisted his hand into Blaine's hair and pulled him closer again, nipping at every surface of Blaine's mouth and lips.

Blaine made a noise then, a whine that went to Kurt's impossibly tight pants. Blaine pushed himself forward and pulled Kurt toward him harshly, throwing their chests together.

Surprised, Kurt jerked back, but Blaine just wrapped his hand around the back of Kurt's neck and reeled him right back in with a: "Come on, Kurt. I'm proving something here."

"Blaine -"

"You want to," he insisted.

He did want to, badly. It was one thing to have meaningless sex with Sebastian, at least he got something in return then. But this was just mindless sex. Kurt felt nothing for him. Kurt flexed his fingers into Blaine's hair and he tilted back obligingly with a raspy little "yeah," he wanted even more.

What was one time?

Kurt pushed Blaine back on the bar and climbed on top of him, spreading his thighs and crawling between them. "For the record, I still fucking hate you."

"I hate you too," Blaine said seriously.

Kurt pushed him back down and slams Blaine into the surface of the bar, earning another whine from the shorter boy. Kurt pulled back and was about to ask how Blaine was until…

"What are you waiting for?" Blaine dared, eyes sliding over Kurt's body brazenly. "Do you need a written invitation?"

His tone really pissed Kurt off, and Kurt decided that Blaine wasn't going to walk tomorrow. Instead of sliding back between Blaine's legs, Kurt sat on his chest and started tugging down his zipper. The way Blaine's eyes burn up at him make him smile. He strokes over his cock until it's free from its confines, hard and leaking, and yeah, yeah, that look on Blaine's face is exactly what Kurt's been waiting for.

"Open your mouth," Kurt ordered. Blaine licked his lips and did so. "Make it good," he continued, carving his fingers through Blaine's hair. "In Vegas, reviews are everything."

Kurt cradled the back of Blaine's head partly to help him, but mostly to keep him where he was. He wanted to remember this sight- the stretch of Blaine's mouth around him, the darkness of his eyes, and the sound of his own groans. Beyond the flutter of his tongue, Kurt felt the tension building in Blaine's neck as he lifted to take in Kurt's cock.

"Fuck," Kurt said, which earned him a flick of Blaine's tongue. "You really want it you bastard." With that, Kurt pulled out of Blaine's mouth and moved back his chest, still careful to put his weight on Blaine's chest.

Blaine breathed slow and heavy. His eyes are still lidded, still so dark with want that their usual vibrant hazel is reduced to a thin line. "And you don't," he questioned, looking at Kurt's cock, which was rock hard.

Kurt didn't answer. He looked down at Blaine, enjoying the feeling of the boy's ribs expanding beneath him, loving that he had the boy exactly where he wanted him.

"Are you like this with everyone then?" Kurt demanded. "Or am I some special charity case?"

Blaine doesn't answer and whines from the loss as Kurt crawls off of him. "Get naked."

"You're lucky this is Vegas," Kurt moved down the bar a few steps and opened a drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube.

Blaine doesn't even question it and positions himself back on the bar.

The silence made Kurt rougher. He nearly attacked Blaine with his fingers. It made him move along too fast, not bothering to wait for Blaine to adjust for girth so much as getting him as slick as he can. He shoved his fingers in deep and fast until Blaine's lifted his hips higher, dropped his head onto the wood, and was forced to just take it however Kurt gave it to him.

Kurt leans down and pushes his body weight back on top of Blaine, his hand still working between them.

"Fuck," Blaine said when Kurt was working four fingers in him, "Just do it!" Blaine's voice, sounded absolutely wrecked.

Kurt took his fingers out and pushed back onto Blaine, not wanting to take orders from him. He slid into Blaine in one thrust.

"Christ," Blaine said, biting his lips, "Kurt…please just…"

Kurt doesn't care. This wasn't about what Blaine wanted anymore. He wanted to feel Blaine around him, unbearably warm and completely welcoming. He wanted to know what kind of sounds he could make come from Blaine. He wanted this man to know that he would always be better than him.

He started moving anyway. He pounded in Blaine right away, Blaine meeting him thrust for thrust with little groans that only made Kurt want more. He did it over and over again, hearing the slap of their bodies meeting as he felt the sting of exertion in his thighs. He squeezed his hands around Blaine's waist to feel the bulk of him and listened to Blaine's breath catch in his throat with a grin.

"Fuck you," Blaine ground out.

Kurt smirked and doubled his efforts. Now the snap of Kurt's hips forced a shock through Blaine's body.. Blaine stretched himself out, curling his hands over the edge of the bar, knuckled white and tense, he leaned into Kurt and allowing Kurt to just completely take him. Both of their moans echoed together throughout the empty bar.

Kurt pulled blain up and scratched at his back, no longer wanting to see the smirk playing on Blaine's lips. He ground his hips up into Blaine when he heard the boy protest.

Kurt was a little surprised to hear a short whine snap out of Blaine's throat, so he did it again, and again and again..

Kurt's mouth found its way to Blaine's neck and started biting angrily at it, the pain only causing Blaine to whine louder.

Kurt wanted all of Vegas to know that he had been with Blaine. That he had topped Blaine and made him whine and groan beneath him.

Kurt fisted his hand over Blaine's cock and groaned with the realization that Blaine was nearly bouncing back onto Kurt in their weird position. A shiver ran up Kurt's spine as he allowed the first loud groan to leave his lips.

"Damn," Blaine grunted as Kurt shifted their positions again.

A sharp grin worked its way onto Kurt's face at the frank desire that thickened Blaine's voice into something rough. "Don't come," Kurt told him and gave Blaine's cock a squeeze. "If you come, I'll never fuck you again."

"I thought you wouldn't want to…" Blaine gasped as Kurt squeezed again, "Kurt I'm going to…"

"No," Kurt said firmly, pushing Blaine back harshly, "You're so fucking pretty beneath me, Blaine."

Kurt pressed Blaine down into the bar with his weight, but he craned to get a look at how doing that made Blaine's face contort - eyes screwed shut, brows creasing, nose wrinkling and mouth dropping open to unleash a cracking, "Fu-_uck_," into the folds of the sheets.

"You like this don't you," Kurt murmured as he shoved Blaine's legs apart, bending one at the hip so that he can straddle the other. Even though his words don't sound like a question coming from his mouth, Blaine nodded frantically and couldn't choke any words out. "You like what I'm doing to you. Tell me how much."

It's like a switch had been flipped. Blaine choked on air for a second, maybe two, and out pours everything - he loved it, fuck, loved all of it, loved how Kurt feels inside him, loved how he feels stretched and full, loved Kurt's weight and his hands and his skin and his cock, and fuck it just kept going on and on, sometimes cycling back through like Blaine can't help but linger on some of them. Kurt fucked him all the way through it, enjoying the sound of Blaine's voice, listening to him ramble and murmur, hearing all the catches in the words when he sank into him. Before long though, the commentary dissolved into nonsense - curses and sobs.

"I hate you, I hate you," Blaine panted, knowing his entire body would hurt the next day.

Kurt just grinned and slammed into Blaine harder, pushing him over the edge as he came with a grunt, tightening around Kurt.

Kurt came soon after and fucked Blaine all the way through it. He slid out and threw away the condom. He lit up another cigarette and watched as Blaine sat up and attempted to put his clothes back on. He winced with every movement but got dressed quickly. "I still hate you," he said quietly, "this doesn't change that." A spark played in his eyes that told Kurt he might not be lying.

"Good," Kurt grinned around his cigarette.

They next day, though, both of their smirks were wiped off of their faces when they both lost their jobs.

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><p><strong>Reviews please!<strong>


	5. Deals

**AN: Oh my god, you guys, I am SO SORRY this is so late. I am literally still recovering from spending NYE in Times Square. NEVER AGAIN. This is short because it is a transition chapter, but fun stuff is coming up, I promise! **

**Also - so many proud momma feelings for Darren tonight. I cannot believe I witnessed his dreams come true - from a computer screen one July to a Broadway stage! I'm going this Saturday, and I cannot be more excited!**

**Sorry for the rambling!**

**Chapter 5**

"You can't do that," Blaine said to Ray, his eyes widening, "you can't fire me! I haven't done anything while on the clock that would give you causation to fire me!" He immediately slipped his hand through his curls, "I know I messed up, but Ray, I need this job. I can't stay in the apartment with Mike if I can't pay! I don't have enough to get my own apartment either." Blaine looked up to the ceiling, willing his tears not to fall. "It isn't fair," he said weakly.

Ray sighed and put a hand on Blaine's shoulder, "Blaine, I can't have you around if you are going to get into a fight with Kurt every single time we see them or they are mentioned. It brings bad press to the club!"

Blaine groaned, "But we won't even need to worry about them in a week! Then the competition will be over, and we can just go back to ignoring each other!" Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his chair, wishing he could forget all of the events of the night before. He had bite marks all over his body and pain in more than one place. "We can forget each other exists."

Ray looked at Blaine and sighed, "Blaine, I like you. I gave you a chance. I know your circumstance isn't ideal…but there is literally nothing I can do. There are other bars, other clubs," Ray raked a hand through his hair and sighed, looking at Blaine with regret, "You were so good, Blaine, I had really high hopes for you."

Blaine was about to respond when Mike burst into the office, "She said yes!" he yelled, picking Blaine up out of the chair and spinning him around. He kissed Blaine's cheeks repeatedly, "She said yes!"

Blaine grinned and hugged his friend, momentarily forgetting about his own situation, "Mike, that is great!" he pulled back and looked at Mike with a huge smile on his face, "You're getting married!"

Mike started jumping up and down just to relieve his tension, "I just don't even know what to do! I never thought she'd say yes!" Mike's smile faded for a brief second, "But Blaine man…I mean…that means that you and me…"

"We can't live together anymore, you'll want Tina to move in," Blaine finished, "I know, I know. I figured that would happen when you told me you were going to ask her to be honest. I just…can you give me a few days to find a new apartment…and a job," he added quietly. How did his life fall apart so quickly?

Mike started, "A job?" he looked to Ray, "You can't fire him! This place needs him! He needs this place! You are going to throw a young kid like this out? Someone who doesn't have a mom? Someone who doesn't have a father?"

Blaine was actually terrified of Mike in that moment. His face was red and splotchy and he was nearly screaming. "Mike, don't do something to lose your job too…"

"No, Blaine. No one ever stuck up for you, so I will. Mr. Motta, I know Blaine has been kind of an idiot with Kurt. But that's just the way Kurt is. He likes to push buttons and he likes to hurt others when he is in a downward spiral. I've seen it before. Don't let him win."

Ray sighed and turned around to pour himself a scotch, "Mr. Anderson, Mr. Chang, I would like you to both leave my office. Mr. Chang, you need to clean up behind the bar after last night's shenanigans. Mr. Anderson, I will think about it and give you a call in a few days, but don't expect me to just hand your job back."

Blaine reached out his hand, and although it was shaking and weak, he knew that was the best way to end a business transaction.

His father had taught him something before he threw him out to the streets.

"Thanks Mike," Blaine hugged his only real friend again, "I owe you one."

"You might not get your job back, but you can expect to not pay rent while you look for another apartment," Mike's jaw was set and he stared at Blaine, "Are you going to be okay if you don't?"

Blaine shrugged, "I'm always okay, aren't I?"

Blaine walked out of the bar with his head held high and he didn't look back. He managed to get from Ohio to Las Vegas, Nevada using no more than his guitar and charm, and the hell if he couldn't pay for an apartment for a few months doing the same thing.

* * *

><p>"Shelby," Kurt was nearly in tears but bit his lip to hold them back, "You can't do that."<p>

"Kurt, you don't exactly have a good track record here. You're late, you sometimes mouth off, and you are constantly fighting with Blaine and making our bar look bad. Plus," she raised an eyebrow, "someone with a key had sex in here last night."

Kurt's jaw dropped, "How…"

Shelby held up her hand, "Broken glasses, spilled alcohol, and it smelled like sex in here when I walked in. Man sex."

Kurt felt his face flush at the memory and instantly tried to calm his nerves. He couldn't keep thinking about the night before. He had forced himself earlier to do anything but think about Blaine.

Blaine's hair.

Blaine's arms.

Blaine's abs.

Blaine's moans.

The way Blaine felt around him.

They Blaine would feel inside of him.

Shelby leaned forward, "Don't think this doesn't kill me, Kurt. I know you have so many problems but I can't fix them, and you aren't fixing them here. You need to get out of Las Vegas, honey. You need to go home."

"You aren't my mother," Kurt muttered.

"No, but you have a woman at home who wants to be," Shelby took Kurt's hand and held it tight enough so he couldn't pull away, "Kurt honey, you can't run away from it forever."

Kurt looked up at her, all emotion gone from his eyes, "I'm not running."

Shelby pulled her hand away, "Kurt, your father wouldn't want you to be like this."

"You didn't know my father so how would you know what he wants?" Kurt said, standing, "Look, I don't need a psychiatrist, I need a boss. You are neither currently."

Shelby put her head in her hands, "Kurt, please. I'll give you the money to go to Lima…."

"To do what?" Kurt blew up, "to stand at a headstone and stare at my father's name? I worked really hard to get here, and I'm not going home now to wallow in pity."

Shelby wanted to say more, but knew Kurt needed time alone. She quickly sent a text message to Santana to tell her to check on the boy later.

Kurt ran to his bike and furiously pedaled his way back to the motel. He had no idea what he was going to do. He had no money, no job, and no one to even help him. It was all useless. He would have to sleep at bus stations and scavenge in dumpsters.

He chained his bicycle up behind the motel and ran into the lobby of the motel, "I need a newspaper." Before the words were even fully in the air, he saw them lying on the glass table, "I'll just be taking this."

He quickly scanned through the listings as he changed again. He would hate himself later because of the laundry bills, but he couldn't go for an interview looking like trash.

Because Kurt Hummel didn't let anything stop him.

He circled a few listings with his eyeliner and changed into a button down. Within twenty minutes, he was out of the door and back on his bicycle going to the first place he circled. It was the restaurant of one of the smaller hotels.

Walking into the restaurant, he held out his hand to the lead cook, "Hello my name is Kurt Hummel and I'm auditioning for the role of waiter."

The man looked Kurt up and down, "I'm sorry kid, but you don't fit the bill."

Kurt glared, "Look there are laws in this country that say you cannot discriminate against me based on sexuality."

"That wasn't why I was saying it, kid," the man quickly dipped chicken into batter.

"Then why?"

"Do you know what this restaurant is?" the man raised an eyebrow.

"No…"

"Do you know why the ad was looking for women?"

"No…" Kurt was starting to get an idea however.

"And as nice as you'd look in those tight orange shorts, kid, I don't think Hooters in the place for you."

Kurt didn't think he could blush anymore, "I'm terribly sorry, sir. I should just go…." Kurt walked out slowly, his step carrying none of the confidence he'd learned to put in it in his act.

Getting back on his bike, Kurt made his way toward the next destination. This was in a bar in a busier part of town near _Strip_.

He was about to walk in when a sight on the ground distracted him, it was Blaine. Blaine was sitting on an empty bucket and playing a beat up guitar, the case lying in front of him, filling with money by the second.

Blaine started plucking a slow melody, his face scrunched in concentration. Kurt felt himself being pulled toward the boy and away from him at the same time.

Blaine opened his mouth and sang, and Kurt had to use the telephone pole to hold himself up.

_I've dealt with my ghosts and I've faced all my demons  
>Finally content with a past I regret<br>I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness  
>For once I'm at peace with myself<br>I have been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long  
>I'm movin' on<em>

Blaine smiled nicely at the older woman who slipped a twenty into the guitar case. Kurt nearly whimpered because that was a hell of a lot of money.

_I've lived in this place and I know all the faces  
>Each one is different but they're always the same<br>They mean me no harm but it's time that I face it  
>They'll never allow me to change<br>But I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong  
>I'm movin' on<em>

Blaine looked up and met eyes with Kurt. Kurt didn't know much about the guitar, but he knew that Blaine's fingers trembled a little and he missed a note. It wasn't enough for anyone just walking by to notice, but Kurt noticed it.

_I'm movin' on  
>At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me<br>And I know there's no guarantees, but I'm not alone  
>There comes a time in everyone's life<br>When all you can see are the years passing by  
>And I have made up my mind that those days are gone<em>

Kurt wanted so badly to go into the club and get the job. But he couldn't pull himself away from Blaine. There was something magnetic about him.

No, not him – his voice. Kurt was attracted to his voice. Sure, he was attracted to Blaine's body, but not Blaine himself.

Not at all.

_I sold what I could and packed what I couldn't  
>Stopped to fill up on my way out of town<br>I've loved like I should but lived like I shouldn't  
>I had to lose everything to find out<br>Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road_

This time, the falter wasn't in the playing, but in Blaine's voice. Kurt listened closely to the lyrics and realized that Blaine truly meant what he was saying.

Kurt started to let his mind wander – where did Blaine come from and who was he?

The playing slowed and Blaine sang the last few lines quietly, looking down at his feet:

_I'm movin' on  
>I'm movin' on<em>

He stopped playing and smiled softly up at the people who threw change and bills into his case. "Thank you," he said politely, "thank you so much."

Kurt knew that he should hate this boy still, that he should want to kill him. This boy made him lose his job. This boy took every little piece of happiness Kurt had and ripped it to pieces.

Suddenly, the anger flare up inside of Kurt again, "You made me lose my job," he said evenly, marching up to Blaine.

The boy's face changed from a smile to shock, "Oh god, Kurt, I didn't…I mean, I don't….I….you lost your job too?"

Kurt stopped, "You were fired?"

Blaine nodded, "This morning."

Kurt bit his bottom lip, "Well then I guess you ruined two people's lives."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Blaine said morosely.

"I can't afford my rent," Kurt said. "I am going to be homeless."

Blaine looked genuinely upset for him, "Kurt, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do anything. I mean, do you think we can tell them that we are…friends or something like it right now?"

"We aren't friends," Kurt said coldly, "or anything like it, actually. I still hate you. Just because you're a good fuck doesn't mean anything."

Kurt wanted to take the words back immediately at the look on Blaine's face. "Oh," Blaine said quietly, pushing himself to his feet. "You know, maybe if you weren't such an asshole, I would have found a way to fix your problem. But no."

Kurt perked an eyebrow, "And how would you do that?"

"I wouldn't now," Blaine said seriously, "But I need somewhere to move and I'm desperate enough to even move in with an asshole diva like you; but you know what, I can't do that because I actually thought we might be on our way to something like a friendship."

Kurt snorted, "You actually thought I would live with you?"

"What other choice do you have?"

Kurt bit his lip, "Would you?" he said quietly. "Blaine…I'm not a nice person…but I'm clean and I really need someone to live with. Please? I'll try to be a better person…"

Blaine didn't look convinced.

"I wasn't always like this," Kurt admitted, not knowing why he was opening up to the boy, "I was a normal, nice, boy at one point."

Blaine ran a hand through his hair, "You know, I don't have another choice either. But I'm not living in a motel."

Kurt held up the paper he was holding, "Want to pull up a piece of cement and look through these For Rent listings?"

"I'm going to regret this," Blaine said, sliding down the brick wall.

"What other choice do we have?" Kurt echoed.

* * *

><p><strong>Juicy, juicy! Reviews?<strong>


	6. Friends?

**Gah! H2$ was so amazing yesterday, guys. He's come so freaking far! Anyway, here is another chapter! I'm going to try to get three up this week! Also, this is unbeta'd because my beta is in Disney world. But I would like to say that she is the bets for getting us such amazing seats to go see Darren yesterday. Thank you for your support!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

"Kurt, we can't afford this either," Blaine pointed out, looking lazily out the window of the fifth floor walk up. "We can't afford anything."

"Well I'm sorry I'm so poor," Kurt shot, rolling his eyes and looking around the smallest two bedroom apartment he'd ever seen.

Blaine sighed and bounced his head off of the wall, "Kurt, this isn't about being poor," he walked over and put a hand on Kurt's shoulder, "We just need to start looking at smaller apartments."

"Smaller apartments?" Kurt laughed, "Do you suggest we sleep on children's sized beds? Because we can barely fit a full bed in this room…"

"I was actually thinking we needed to start looking for a one bedroom…." Blaine said slowly, his hand scratching the back of his neck. Just from spending the past few days together, Kurt knew this meant he was nervous about something.

"I'm not going to blow up every time you make a suggestion," Kurt said gently. "But…how would we work a single bedroom apartment. I did the dorm thing for awhile; I don't need to do it again."

"You went to college?" Blaine looked at him skeptically.

Kurt hummed in agreement and then sighed, "You already have an appointment set up with a landlord, don't you?"

Blaine turned pink faintly but nodded, "I do. It's a little further outside of the city than either of us lived before but it is cheap…"

"I'm sold already," Kurt linked arms with Blaine and pulled him out of the apartment.

"I warn you, it is one bedroom though," Blaine opened the door to Mike's new car and motioned for Kurt to go around.

"I can ride my bike," Kurt said, flustered, "Just let me know where we're going."

"Kurt, we have to learn to like each other," Blaine frowned slightly, he had thought they were making progress. He knew Kurt still didn't really consider him a friend, but he hoped they could at least be civil toward each other. He also knew this living situation was not permanent, but that Kurt would just stay with him until he found a better roommate or someone he liked better.

Blaine didn't know why he let that bother him so much.

Kurt felt his outer shell dissolve around Blaine, and it scared him. Kurt wanted nothing more than to slide into the car with Blaine and drive toward the apartment. There was something about Blaine that made Kurt want to open up and talk about everything from cellulite to hot chocolate.

Kurt fought for a few more seconds before pointing to his bike, "I would love to ride with you, Blaine, but I can't leave my transportation sit around."

Blaine walked around front, picked up Kurt's bike, and slipped it easily into the back seat, "Was that so difficult?"

"I suppose not," Kurt grumbled and moved around to the passenger's seat, "I've never driven with you, can you please try not to kill me?"

Blaine actually giggled before settling back into the seat and starting the car, "I'll have you know I'm actually a really good driver."

Not even five minutes later, Kurt was ready to leave the car already. "BLAINE! THAT CAR IS TRYING TO MERGE, YOU CANNOT MERGE AT THE SAME TIME."

Blaine chuckled lowly, "Calm down, Kurt. I'm fine."

"I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW IT COSTS MORE THAN OUR RENT FOR FIVE MONTHS TO FIX THE BUMPER OF THIS CAR," Kurt gasped, holding onto the handle of the door and praying he would survive this ordeal.

He'd been doing that more and more lately.

Blaine switched lanes jerkily and moved toward the next exit.

"No," Kurt said, "Not a chance. I thought we'd be going to Santana and Brittany's neighborhood. Not this."

"Kurt, this is what we can afford."

"Can't we afford more? I've been living in this neighborhood for years and I wanted to get out," Kurt put his head next to the window and fought the urge to slam his head into the glass.

"You live around here?" Blaine raised an eyebrow in Kurt's direction, "By yourself?"

"Hmm."

"Kurt that isn't safe," Blaine's eyes turned toward Kurt now, wide and full of concern. "You could die alone here."

"I'm fine," Kurt squirmed uncomfortable, he did not like the idea of anyone worrying about him, especially Blaine.

"After we have this meeting with Sue, I'm going to help you move your stuff. I don't want you living in that apartment by yourself anymore."

"It isn't an apartment," Kurt mumbled, suddenly self-aware. He was seriously confused. He never cared what anyone thought about his living situation – he was proud that he had survived on his own for so long. "It is a motel room."

"Kurt," Blaine shook his head, "We're going to get this apartment if it is remotely nice."

"Why do you care? We hate each other; Wouldn't that just get me out of your hair for good?"

Blaine turned down one of the admittedly nicer streets of the downtrodden neighborhood, "Kurt, I don't hate you. You might hate me," he tried to hide the catch in his voice, but didn't succeed, "but I think you and I could actually be friends."

"Oh god," Kurt smirked playfully at Blaine, "You fell in love with me, didn't you?"

"No," Blaine was resolute in his answer, "but I do think you are more broken than you let other people see."

Kurt panicked, "You just thought I was sensational that night and you want me to make you limp again."

Blaine hit the brakes heavily, "So we're talking about that now? I thought we were going to pretend it didn't happen!"

"I attempted to," Kurt shrugged, "but I couldn't."

"So I was that good, huh?" Blaine tried to hit the blush that crept up his neck again. He hated how easily he colored while talking to Kurt.

"No," Kurt shrugged his shoulders, "Kind of vanilla actually."

"Vanilla?" Blaine scoffed.

Kurt nodded, wrinkling his nose, "So vanilla."

"Not even sprinkles?"

"Not even sprinkles," Kurt laughed, "Well, okay, maybe some chocolate sauce."

"More than Sebastian?" Blaine prompted, checking the street names and driving slowly.

"He was like a wafer, actually. Completely tasteless. He just laid there," Kurt caught himself, "Wait a minute…how did you know about Sebastian?" had he mentioned something Blaine? Kurt couldn't deal with the thought of Blaine judging him for what he'd been doing with Sebastian. Would he understand that Kurt needed to make money somehow, and pawning off things was the only way to get it?

"Well, he said you went on a date so I just assumed," Blaine shrugged, "Why, is something going on there?" he prodded.

"No. Look for the apartment," Kurt ordered, "Stop thinking of me fucking anymore."

Blaine blushed again but said nothing for the next few minutes until they were almost at the end of the street. Kurt was glad, because this was generally an older area.

At least they could outrun anyone who tried to attack them.

"Here it is!" Blaine pointed to an older, blue building. "The apartment is on the second floor. The landlord would live beneath us."

He parked the car in the tenant parking spot and they walked together toward the front door.

Kurt heard a small pop and watched an orange dart hit Blaine on the forehead. "Hey cool," Blaine held up the small bullet, "I wonder if our landlord has children."

"God, I hope not," Kurt wanted to run away at the thought of children.

"Sorry, Curls, I had to make sure you were," the blonde woman who had emerged from behind a small shrub checked a piece of paper, "Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine nodded, "and this is Kurt Hummel."

"Sue Sylvester," the woman stuck out her hand, "I own this fine establishment. Some say that George Washington lived here as a child."

Kurt glanced at Blaine who just shrugged.

"Well, Kurt and I need an apartment so we were hoping to take a look at this one," Blaine glanced up to the peeling paint of the building.

"Come on up, you'll have to step through the metal detectors first, I hope I don't have to frisk you," Sue said with a meaningful look at Kurt.

Twenty minutes and a body search later, Blaine adjusted his belt as they walked up the rickety stairs. "Is this building safe?" Kurt couldn't help but ask.

"Sure is. Up to codes," Sue held out her key ring, "There are seven locks on the door. Only four work, but carrying around the keys makes you look professional though," she winked conspiratorially at Blaine.

They walked into the apartment and Kurt immediately turned around and tried to push by Blaine, "There is no chance in hell," he muttered and nearly tripped over Blaine's feet.

"Can we just look?" Blaine said, turning Kurt around, "We have to bite the bullet, Kurt."

The taller boy turned and looked around the entirely too small apartment. "Blaine," he said, almost begging the dark haired boy, "We cannot."

"Excuse us," Blaine said to the landlord, "Can we just have a few moments to look around the premises?"

"Don't break anything," Sue said, her eyes darting back and forth between the two men, "I'm going to go call Donald Trump. He owes me some money."

Blaine laughed a little as the door closed, "She's interesting."

"She's nuts," Kurt agreed. "Blaine, this place is horrible."

Blaine covered the entire room in three steps, "It really isn't so bad, Kurt. It is small, yes, but with some elbow grease and cleaning supplies, it really could be okay."

Kurt leaned gingerly against the wall, "Blaine, we have no furniture."

"Mike actually said I could take some of ours because Tina doesn't like what we have," Blaine shrugged, "it isn't the best, but it beats nothing."

Kurt relented and they walked around the apartment more. The kitchen was small and definitely old fashioned, there wasn't even a dishwasher, but it would work.

"I like the bar," Kurt commented with a shrug, "at least we wouldn't have to find a table."

Blaine nodded, "the floor is good too."

They walked through the small living room again, nothing that the rug was covered in stains, but neither said anything.

The bathroom was much the same, small and somewhat dirty, but it would do.

It was certainly better that what Kurt lived in.

"Now, we have the bedroom," Blaine jokingly grabbed Kurt's waist and flipped him up to carry him bridal style.

"Put. Me. Down." Kurt ground out through his teeth.

"Nope," Blaine kicked open the door and walked into the room. It was surprisingly big and bright, with a huge window on the far wall. He dropped Kurt with a thud, leaving the taller boy to scramble for footing on the floor.

"This isn't too bad," Kurt commented when he stood vertically again.

In truth, the room was the biggest in the apartment and didn't appear to be too dirty.

"I warn you, this is above my room, so you better not have a squeaky bed frame or bounce it off the walls too much," Sue leaned against the doorframe and surveyed the two men, "Or you could and I could cancel my subscription to HBO for all of their late night programming. Who knows, if the sound is good enough I'd even cut back on your rent," she winked at Kurt who tried to appear busy.

Blaine just laughed and looked at Kurt, "You don't have to worry, we won't be making any noises up here."

Sue rolled her eyes, "Do I have a sale or not? I have a meeting with Jane Austen soon. She's writing my autobiography."

Blaine's mouth dropped and he just looked at her quickly before looking to Kurt with a question on his face.

"Yes," Kurt pulled out his wallet, "We'll live here."

They stood in the room and signed their lives away. For at least the next year, they would both live in this apartment, or they would have to pay severe severance fees.

Walking out of the apartment, Kurt went to the back of the car and opened the door.

"What are you doing?" Blaine closed the door quickly, "I can drive you back. I figure you need time to pack."

Kurt really didn't want Blaine to see his apartment, "Can you not?" It was weird to Kurt, to have someone there to support him, someone who just really wanted to be nice to him. He didn't want Blaine to already tire of him and leave him high and dry.

He didn't have a job, he obviously didn't have many friends that would at least support him, and he couldn't ruin the one person who was going to at least be around.

Even if he did hate him.

Right?

"Kurt, I'll take you back to the motel. I'm packing your stuff up and we'll get you out so you don't have to do it yourself."

"No," Kurt was seriously considering just walking back to the motel.

"Kurt, you have to trust me," Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and brushed his thumb over the back of Kurt's knuckles. "I'm taking you home."

"That isn't a home," Kurt muttered, but got into the car with a sigh.

The drive to the motel was shorter than Kurt hoped. Blaine parked the car and let out a low whistle, "You live here?"

"It was all I could afford."

"This looks like the place where frat boys come to die," Blaine laughed, "how have you not killed someone?"

"It takes patience. Which I figured was great practice for when I live with you," Kurt shot back, slamming the door with a little too much force.

Blaine chuckled low and followed Kurt to his room, "Kurt, you don't have to be embarrassed," he said as lightly as he could, "I'm not going to judge me."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I don't care if you judge me, Blaine, I don't care what you think."

"Hey!" Blaine grabbed Kurt's elbow again, "Stop doing that. Stop going back to hating me whenever I try to understand you."

Kurt broke his arm free, "Stop doing that. Stop trying to get to know me, Blaine."

"Why?"

"Because you won't like what you see," Kurt started throwing his clothes into the old green suitcase.

Blaine sighed, "What can I clean out?"

"The kitchen?" Kurt tried, "just put the stuff in a plastic bag."

Blaine walked over to the kitchen and opened the cabinets, "there is nothing to clean out."

"Sure there is," Kurt answered, smiling like an idiot when he found one the missing buttons from his Chanel shirt, "there are some oranges in the left cabinet."

"Kurt, what do you eat?" Blaine looked through every cabinet and the refrigerator.

"I don't," Kurt shrugged, "costs too much."

Blaine opened a drawer and started putting the things, mostly pencils, pens, a screwdriver, a flashlight, and a corkscrew. At the bottom of the drawer, he found a picture. The picture showed a man with a bald head holding up a teacup. Blaine smiled at the little Kurt in the picture, his hair shorter and combed to perfection. He was holding a tiny yellow flower in his hand, pinky firmly in the air. "Who is this?" Blaine asked, flashing the picture.

Kurt's face immediately paled even more, "Where did you find that?"

"In your drawer," Blaine grew flustered.

Kurt stood there for a second, his eyes bulging and his breathing deepening. When he finally spoke, his voice was completely wrecked and raw with emotion, "I thought I'd lost it," he said finally, the tears breaking free and spilling over his cheeks. "I thought I'd accidentally thrown it away." He crossed the room in two steps, gently taking the picture from Blaine's hands. "Thank you for finding it," he said with a watery smile, "it's all I have."

Blaine wanted nothing more than to reach up and wipe the tears off of Kurt's face, "Is that your father?" he asked gently.

Kurt nodded, "Yeah. This was him," he glanced down at Blaine before taking a deep breath, "this is how I remember him. Smiling, always there for me. Always happy," Kurt glanced at the other figure on the picture, "This is how I remember being. Before…before this."

"He's still there," Blaine said gently, "that boy. I'm seeing him right now."

Kurt sniffled a little and let out a nervous laugh, "I really want to hate you. Why do you have to charm your way around?"

Blaine laughed and pulled Kurt in for a huge, "Come on, let me get your back to my apartment, you can crash on the couch and we'll take care of this tomorrow."

Kurt nodded gratefully and allowed Blaine to lead him out of the motel room.

Kurt would never spend another night hearing sirens, drunk men screaming, and worrying about getting bitten by bed bugs.

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	7. Comfort

**Thank you again for all of your kind words! Once again, this is un-beta'd. SORRY! Tumblr is CrissMeDarren if you want to talk or have questions!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

Kurt awoke the next morning with something he had been missing for years – hope.

The couch was more comfortable than the lumpy bed at the motel had ever been, and the air conditioning felt nice against his skin – which was not threatening to break out from scratchy blankets. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked around Blaine's apartment with Mike. It was not large, and could use some work, but it was something they could not be kicked out of in five minutes.

It was lived in, cared for, and loved.

Kurt had no idea how Blaine afforded it, but he was glad he did.

Standing, Kurt felt every bone in his body pop and realign. He felt refreshed and alive, probably because for the first time in a long time, sirens, screams, and breaking bottles had not plagued his sleep. It was amazing what a full night of sleep could do for his attitude.

Kurt looked down at his wardrobe – a thin black beater with holes and a pair of tartan sweatpants that were frayed at the bottom. He laughed slightly because even though he felt more like the old Kurt Hummel, he still looked like the current one.

Walking around the sofa, Kurt heard voices coming from Blaine's room and even though he did not want to spy, he heard his name among the murmurings and had to investigate.

"This is a bad idea, Blaine," Mike's voice was full of anger and at the same time, concern, "I wouldn't trust him."

"Why not?" Blaine's voice was tired and Kurt could tell the conversation had woken him up as well.

"He's probably using you! How can you not see? Are you that naïve?" Kurt could practically hear Mike pacing the floor, the old boards creaking ever so slightly. He tried not to be offended, he was used to people assuming the worst about him.

Kurt really wanted to barge in and hit Mike, but another part of him wanted to hear what Blaine would say in response. Would Blaine actually stick up for him? Or would Blaine just agree with him?

"He's not," Blaine's voice, already muffled by the door, came out even quieter. Kurt heard the rustle of the sheets and wanted even more to barge in the door, his hand already on the knob.

"You can't just blindly trust everyone," Mike replied, his voice coming closer to the door. "Not everyone is going to be good to you."

"Like I'm not aware of that?" Blaine's sinister reply sent a shiver down Kurt's spine.

Kurt flung himself into the bathroom, acting like he just woke up. He was washing his hands when Mike stalked by, "Good morning!" Kurt said with as much cheer in his voice as he could muster.

"Morning Kurt," Mike muttered back, not even trying to pretend to like the boy.

Kurt streaked out of the tiny bathroom and ran into Blaine's room. He was terrified that Mike had put doubt into Blaine's head, and he needed to make sure Blaine knew he was not using him.

He could not do that to the only man who showed him any type of caring, even though he had treated him like complete dirt.

Blaine was sitting in bed, shirtless, his hair a wild mess, and the sheets gathered around his trim waist. "Good morning, Kurt," he said with actual happiness in his voice. "Did you sleep well? Did you have enough blankets?" Blaine's honey eyes were wide and clear, holding no true signs of any hesitation or aversion toward Kurt from the conversation with Mike.

Kurt stood awkwardly at the end of the bed, playing with his hands. He felt like he was towering over Blaine in the small room, but did not want to sit on the bed for fear of it becoming awkward. He also tried to ignore Blaine's slight muscles and the smattering of chest hair. He didn't know why he classified Blaine as a boy in his head – it was apparent that he no longer was anything close to that.

"Do you want to sit?" Blaine moved up the bed. Kurt tried to ignore the way his muscles moved and tensed as he hoisted himself to the headboard. He also tried to ignore the way his heart pounded in his chest.

Kurt gingerly climbed his way onto the bed, trying not to jostle Blaine too much.

"Here," Blaine smiled softly at him and pulled the white down comforter around Kurt. "Your pajamas have no material, they are so thin."

Kurt could not help his reply, "Your pajama top is awfully thin too…"

Blaine's cheeks were tinged in pink but he shrugged, "Someone stole it?" he tried.

Kurt laughed but did not push the topic, he knew Blaine was slightly uncomfortable.

Kurt was touched by Blaine tucking the comforter around his hips. He ran his hands up the silky comforter and his fingers hit an embroidered patch. The patch was a large D with blue and red detailing. It was sitting cockeyed in the corner. He ran his fingers over the patch a few more times.

"What's this?" Kurt tried to scan his memory of designer labels and logos, but the red and blue pattern did not trigger any memories.

Blaine leaned back against the headboard after raking his eyes over the patch, a darkness coming over his face before he calmed it down. He studied Kurt for a moment, a little life coming back to his eyes. "It was my school logo. This…this was the comforter I had on my bed," he said eventually.

"Fancy," Kurt joked without malice. "they sold sheets are your high school? That is a little weird."

Blaine wiggled a little, "I stole them, really. Well, I guess my parents ended up paying for them," he had a sort of evil glint to his eyes.

Kurt wanted to ask questions, but he knew if he got Blaine to talk, he eventually would have to talk as well. "You stole them?" he asked, his eyebrows going up, "that's pretty badass."

Blaine laughed, "Oh yeah. Stealing from my all-boys private school, the epitome of bas ass."

"Well I think it is," Kurt said, patting the bare skin of Blaine's shoulder. "But why did you steal?"

"Let's just say I made a quick exit," Blaine said with a goofy smile on his face instead of the evil one.

Kurt thought both looks suited him, but the huge goofy smile did something to him.

The thought of Blaine needing to make a quick exit worried Kurt, but he knew all about them.

"Oh, Blaine," Mike walked in through the doorway, stopping when he saw Kurt cuddled up next to Blaine. His eyes darted back and forth a few times before he remembered what he needed to do. "I'll wait," he finally said.

"Nonsense," Blaine motioned with his hand, "whatever you were going to say, you can say in front of Kurt."

Kurt couldn't help the look he shot Mike.

Blaine trusted him.

Mike looked annoyed but nodded, "Ray said you could come back in a week."

Blaine nearly leapt off of the bed, "That's awesome!" he hugged Mike, picking him up and twirling him in a surprising display of strength. "Thank you so much for talking to him!" When he broke off from Mike, he lunged for Kurt, "Did you hear that, Kurt? I have my job back! We won't have to eat Kid Cuisine for the next few months!"

Despite Kid Cuisine sounding like a full meal compared to what he was used to, Kurt felt genuinely happy for Blaine. That was strange to him, because usually he felt jealousy for others when they received good news. "That is awesome!" Kurt exclaimed, hugging the man back and just breathing in his scent.

Blaine seemed a little shocked that Kurt was actually hugging him back, but that just encouraged him to hug harder.

After a few more awkward moments, they let each other go.

"We should probably get to the motel," Blaine said quietly. He mentally cursed himself when he realized what that sounded like. He had a blush from the hug that only intensified with the comment.

Kurt nodded desperately trying to ignore the stain on his skin from feeling Blaine against him. He wanted to fall back into Blaine's arms and stay there all day.

They dressed quickly, both trying to ignore the feelings they had coursing through their veins. Kurt excused himself to the bathroom again and had to wash his face in cold water several times before exiting to face Blaine again.

When they arrived at the motel, Blaine shuddered and shook his head. He had to stop over a puddle of vomit from a frat boy the night before. "How did you live here?" he asked for the eighth time.

"It was home," Kurt said darkly.

Blaine sent him a pained look but just clapped his shoulder, "This will be only a memory soon. We will both finally have a home to call our own."

Kurt nodded and led Blaine into his room. The more Blaine revealed about himself, the more Kurt wanted to know, but the more he also did not want to tell. Most of the items in the room were already packed from the night before, but Kurt knew there were still a lot of things stuffed about the room.

"Can you help me move my bed?" he asked immediately. That was his biggest task. Along with the lack of food, Kurt was most ashamed of what he had stocked under his bed. He wanted to turn back time and remove what was under the mattress weeks ago so Blaine would not have to see them.

Blaine easily shoved the mattress against the wall, trying to ignore the stains and springs poking out of the thin sheets. He stared down at the piles upon piles of receipts that Kurt had stashed away. There were literally hundreds.

Kurt was mortified.

"Oh my god," Blaine whispered, grabbing the piles and trying to organize them, "How did you afford a Rolex?" he looked up at Kurt with questions swimming in his eyes.

Kurt wanted to crawl under the box spring. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to create a time machine and go back and never meet Blaine.

"Um, Sebastian…"

A look of defeat passed over Blaine's face, "Oh." Blaine was now worried because he had secretly hoped that Kurt would warm up to him and maybe they could even start something between the two of them.

Blaine still remembered how every touch made him turn on fire and how even earning a simple smile from Kurt made every ounce of effort worth it.

But if Sebastian was Kurt's type, Blaine really had no chance of ever getting to be with him.

Kurt sensed something was wrong with Blaine, but didn't want to push it. He was terrified of scaring Blaine away.

Blaine started collecting the receipts, every so often glancing at one. The designer labels flashed in front of him, showing him something that he would never really be. His heart sank lower and lower until he was positive it was going come out of his toes soon.

It gave him hope thought that Kurt had at least gotten rid of the things Sebastian had given him. He picked up the final receipt and glanced at it. His heart thundered in his chest and he felt the blood rush to his ears. He tried to fight the anger, but knew it would eventually explode.

"You were still with Sebastian while he was hitting on me?" confusion and hurt were laced in Blaine's voice instead of the anger he had hoped for.

Kurt paled when he realized what receipt Blaine was holding. He also knew he only had a few more days to collect on the receipt and get his watch back before he owed the pawn shop a lot of money he now really did not have. "No…" Kurt said eventually and he bit down on his lip hard enough to hurt. "It was an old shirt?" he tried lamely.

Blaine dropped the receipts in a neat pile on the table, "You know, I'm really trying to be nice to you. I thought we were actually going to get some sort of relationship. I'm trying to forge…something between use here, and all you do is lie to me."

"I wasn't…" Kurt started, panicking at the look on Blaine's face.

"You were," Blaine's anger had been hit finally. "That shirt was new. Brand new, in fact. It hadn't been on shelves even a week." Blaine moved for the door, "You aren't the only man who likes fashion." He gave Kurt one more hurt look, and moved out of the door, not even bothering to close it.

Kurt knew this meant he wanted to be followed.

"Blaine!" Kurt cried, not even caring about his reputation or what anyone else in the motel thought.

Blaine turned and instead of the tears Kurt had expected to see, he saw pure anger on Blaine's face.

"Come back in, I'll tell you," Kurt wasn't going to lie to Blaine anymore. He wanted Blaine to know at least part of the truth, even if it ruined Blaine's image of him forever.

He just hoped it did not.

Blaine wanted to say no, he wanted to walk out of Kurt's life and find another roommate, another apartment, another anything. He followed Kurt back to the room, sitting stiffly in the broken chair, not trying to hide his anger, but trying to hide his worry.

Kurt stood in front of him, and Blaine never saw him look more vulnerable.

Blaine sighed and against everything his mind told him and held open his arms, "Come here," he said gently.

Kurt fell into Blaine's arms, not caring if he felt weak. He needed someone who was going to be there for him, and even if it was the man who made his heart sputter, it was someone.

Blaine was a little shocked that Kurt allowed himself to be comforted so quickly. But he knew that Kurt needed someone, so he wrapped his arms tightly around Kurt, wanting him to feel secure. "Tell me," he still wanted the truth, just in case this was an all act – he hadn't forgotten what Mike had said.

Even though he really didn't think it was.

Kurt didn't cry, but clung to the feeling of someone around him that actually cared.

Kurt pointed to the receipts and tried to let the words come out of his mouth. Instead, it was just a strangled noise.

Blaine was already piecing some things together, he was not naïve like many people thought, and was actually a smart person. "Kurt, I'm not going to judge you," he whispered as honestly as he could, "I know how much that hurts, when people judge you."

Kurt took a deep breath and looked at anything but Blaine. "If I sleep with Sebastian, he give me things." Kurt said quietly. "Expensive things that I can pawn."

Blaine nodded slowly, trying to think about what he could say. He could tell Kurt he understood, that was he was doing was actually industrious. Instead, what came out was: "Did you enjoy it?" He wanted to slap himself in the face but was even more shocked when Kurt began to answer.

Kurt gave a hollow laugh, "Not a chance in the world. The only time I've enjoyed sex in the past two years was when I was with you," he admitted. The blush that colored his cheeks now was definitely the old Kurt coming back.

Blaine sat up a little straighter, smiling at the man, "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Blaine untangled himself from Kurt and started packing up the rest of the papers under the mattress.

Kurt sat on the broken chair now, just looking at Blaine. "Wait, that's it? You aren't going to judge me and walk out?" Like everyone else, even Santana, had done.

"No," Blaine shrugged, "Were you safe?" the was the only question nagging at Blaine's brain, because even though they were, he still worried.

"Of course," Kurt shuddered on the chair and had to stand to get his mind off of Sebastian, "Trust me. I wouldn't…ever…with him."

Blaine sighed with relief. "That's good to know," he laughed.

"You are seriously going to be that cool about it?"

Blaine shrugged, "We've all made mistakes, Kurt. I'm not going to judge you."

"But you would never be with me again," Kurt said sadly.

Blaine stopped throwing random shoes into a tote and turned slowly toward Kurt, "Is that even an option? You said it wasn't going to happen again…"

Kurt smiled, "Stop deflecting."

Blaine stood and looked Kurt over. He crossed the room in two steps and grabbed Kurt by the waist, pulling him in for a kiss.

Kurt whimpered but immediately wrapped his arms around Blaine, kissing back with all the strength he had left.

Blaine pushed Kurt back against the empty television stand, Kurt sat on the short stand, suddenly giving Blaine the height advantage.

Blaine put a hand on either side of Kurt, rutting his hips against Kurt's and moaning. They both start stripping each other until both were flushed, panting, and completely naked against each other.

"Kurt, we really can't-" Blaine groaned, and Kurt whimpered again, wrapping his legs tighter around Blaine's waist and rocking up so that Blaine's cock drags over him where he's wet and open and completely ready. "We don't have…."

"We still can," Kurt whimpered between kisses, grabbing Blaine's bottom lip with his teeth.

"Kurt," Blaine pulled back and looked intensely at Kurt, fighting a battle with himself.

"Yes we can," Kurt told him, scratching nails down Blaine's back, "I was just tested last week. I'm completely clean. You?" That was the one thing Kurt did spend money on.

Blaine sighed dramatically but nodded, "I'm clean."

"And unless you don't want to have sex…" Kurt joked. His laughed turned into a moan when Blaine's cock rocked against his thigh.

Blaine still looked like he had some reservations.

"Blaine," Kurt leaned back on his arms, Blaine's eyes tracing up and down his torso, "Fuck me." He wet his fingers and trailed them down his body.

Blaine groaned, reaching a hand out and moving it tenderly up and down Kurt's abs, "Okay, but this is a onetime thing?" he stared at Kurt, "the no condom thing I mean…"

"Uh huh," Kurt said, already tilting his hips up and reaching down to grab at Blaine's ass, trying to pull him in closer. "One time…got it. Fuck me." He was already pushing one finger in himself, and added another after meeting Blaine's eyes.

"You sweet talker, you," Blaine groaned, laughing and then gasping as Kurt tried to push up against his cock. He pushed Kurt's hand out of his way. "Fuck, Kurt, okay, hold on," he groaned, reaching down between them to line himself up. "You sure?"

"Blaine," Kurt nearly yelled, "If you don't fuck me I'm going to die."

Blaine nodded to himself and shifted back a little so he could push in, and Kurt was so focused on finally getting Blaine's cock inside of him that it took him a little by surprise at how _different_it felt as Blaine pushes into him. Kurt knew that this was going to mean so much more to him than it probably should. He had never done this before, and he felt so open and so close to Blaine at the same time.

"Dear lord," Blaine said shakily, his hands squeezing at Kurt's hips. "That's-"

"Yeah," Kurt said, clenching down around Blaine and groaning when it forced Blaine's hips to jerk forward. "C'mon," he ordered, trying to arch up, digging his heels into the small of Blaine's back. "Blaine…please…." He was whining from the stretch alone, and just wanted Blaine to push him into the table and take him.

Blaine's eyes were wide and dark. He ducked down and kissed Kurt softly and surprisingly sweetly, just a press of his lips before he pulled back and braced his arms on the table so he could start to thrust. It felt _amazing_, the pull and the drag of Blaine fucking him, and Kurt didn't know if he's making it up or not, or if it had just been so long since he'd been in this position, but it felt like so much _more_this way. Blaine's hips started to snap relentlessly into Kurt. It's too early, and it's too intense, but Kurt felt the heat coiling in his stomach and thrusted back against Blaine.

"Shit," Blaine said, stilling his hips and breathing for a second. "Kurt, holy shit…"

"No, I know," Kurt groaned, stuck between wanting to slow down and wanting to lay back and let Blaine do his worst. He pointedly stroked over his cock where it was resting against his stomach, flushed and wet. "Trust me."

"I should probably-" Blaine reasoned, starting to pull his hips back, and Kurt made a noise he was not entirely proud of and locked his legs around Blaine's waist, trying to keep him close.

"No, what?" Kurt said. "Come on, Blaine, trust me, all I have to do is touch my cock and I'm going to come too, it's fine, come on."

"No, but," Blaine murmured, his cheeks flushing even more than they already were. "I can't- inside. I mean. I should pull out."

"Yes you can," Kurt nearly begged, rocking his hips up.

"But," Blaine said again, and Kurt groaned, stretching up and grabbing at the back of Blaine's neck, pulling him down.

"Blaine," he argued, stretching up to kiss him. "Blaine, you're already inside without a condom. I want to feel you. All of you. Please?"

"I…" Blaine's hips were moving slowly again, betraying his resistance.

Kurt tugged at Blaine's hair, "BLAINE."

The wrecked expression on Blaine's face betrayed any resistance he had.

Kurt helped Blaine, pressing his heels against Blaine's ass and helping him forward as Blaine started to press back in.

"Oh fuck." Kurt moaned against Blaine's neck.

Blaine nodded, "I know," he panted, kind of dark and thick, and then he pressed back in deep, dropping his head to Kurt's shoulder and groaning against his neck. Kurt hitched his legs higher around Blaine's waist, tilted his hips up, and Blaine was in even deeper and they were both gasping out, Blaine biting down at Kurt's shoulder and Kurt's fingers clutching at Blaine's back.

"Fuck," Blaine said, snapping his hips forward. "Kurt, can you, I'm so close." Blaine's voice was shaky and it took Kurt a second to figure out what he means, but when Blaine tried to reach a hand between them for Kurt's cock and pretty much just fell on top of Kurt's chest, Kurt laughed breathlessly and kissed at Blaine's temple. As soon as Blaine was back up, Kurt wrapped his hand around his cock, groaning as Blaine thrusts in just right.

"Yes," Kurt repeats, "Yes yes yes…"

Blaine's panted, his curls sticking wetly to his forehead and his arms shaking where he held himself up. It was not going to take much for Kurt to come, but he started jerking himself faster anyway. "Come on," he told Blaine, clenching around Blaine's cock. "Come on, please, give it to me…" and Blaine groaned, his hips snapping forward as he comes. Kurt moaned in surprise at the way it feels, hot and wet and deep inside of him.

"_Kurt_," Blaine said, his voice raw, and Kurt looked up and nods kind of stupidly as Blaine batted Kurt's hand away, wrapping his own around Kurt's cock. It only took him two strokes before Kurt's coming, his body jerking up with the force of it. It was intense and overwhelming, and Kurt's so busy panting and trying to catch his breath that he didn't realize Blaine was talking until he squeezed at Kurt's cock again.

"Huh?" Kurt asked, his body trying to arch up into Blaine's hand even though he was sensitive.

"I said please let me go," Blaine gasped out, and it's only then that Kurt realized he still had his legs locked around Blaine's waist and was squeezing around Blaine's cock, just to feel how wet and slick he was inside.

"Sorry, sorry," Kurt said, dropping his legs open and then groaning when Blaine pulled back and slips out. Kurt closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall, and so he was really not expecting it when all of a sudden Blaine's fingers were stroking back over his hole.

"Hmm?" Kurt hummed at him, and Blaine didn't really answer, just kept stroking over Kurt.

Blaine's face looked worried, "Are you okay?"

Kurt nodded slowly, "It has just been…awhile."

Blaine understood and pulled his fingers away. He gently picked Kurt up and even though it was slightly gross, settled them both on the mattress, cuddling up against Kurt from behind.

"I'm the little spoon?" Kurt asked hopefully. It had been so long since he'd cuddled with anyone.

Blaine nodded, pressing a kiss into his shoulder, "You're the little spoon. Go to sleep for a little."

Kurt didn't want to, he wanted to go to the new apartment, but the seduction of sleep was too much for him.

"I promise to be here when you wake up," Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear.

And he was.

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><p><strong>Reviews?<strong>


	8. Sweetheart

**Gah! Thank you for such a good reaction to the last chapter. Remember, they still have quite a few bumps. A few people asked if this would be shorter than my other fics and the answer is most likely yes, but not in the next few chapters. I'm probably going to be working on two fics at the same time soon, so look out for my other one! :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

"Push!" Blaine called over the mattress. "PUSH KURT, PUSH!"

Kurt all but ran into the mattress with his shoulder, knocking it through the door and right on top of Blaine.

"Oh my god, Blaine!" Kurt yelled when he saw the smaller man sprawled under the heavy mattress, the only thing visible was his wild hair and a shoelace. "Are you okay?"

Blaine groaned, "Help!"

Kurt scurried under the mattress, at least relieving some of the weight on Blaine. Without the pressure, Blaine was able to crawl out from underneath it and hold it up so that Kurt could escape as well.

Blaine waited until Kurt was safely out from under the mattress, dropped it quickly to the floor, and landed on it with a thud. He groaned once he nestled in it.

Kurt wrinkled his nose slightly because it did not have sheets and he had no idea how many men Blaine had been with on that very mattress.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, letting out a breath he did not know he was holding and panted slightly with exertion.

"I'm fine," Blaine mumbled into the mattress.

Kurt was going to lecture Blaine, but instead he slid up the mattress and pressed himself against Blaine. Things had been a little awkward between them since they both realized they were naked, lying in bed together. They admitted that they let the situation get away from them, and they were a little confused. However, it warmed them both to know that neither boy said he regretted it.

Kurt knew he actually cared on a deeper level for Blaine than he had probably ever felt for anyone. He simply never allowed himself to fall for anyone before, but Blaine had pushed his way into his heart with honest eyes and actual caring – something he was finding that most people were not capable of feeling.

"Hey," Kurt said quietly, running his hand down Blaine's spine, pressing slightly at the base of his back, "Are you angry with me?"

Blaine slowly opened his large eyes and looked right at Kurt, who couldn't help but feel like he was being interrogated. He stared a few seconds longer when he shifted closer to Kurt, "No, I'm not. Why?" he quirked an eyebrow and shifted closer to Kurt, gently wrapping an arm around Kurt's waist.

"I just dropped a mattress on you," Kurt joked, his smile widening and his eyes sparkling again. Blaine's arm tightened around him when he realized Kurt needed some convincing. "Seriously," Kurt said in a quieter tone, "Do you regret it?"

Blaine sighed at the fear and trepidation in Kurt's eyes and while he had no idea what Kurt was afraid of, he knew that he did not need to be. Blaine had no idea where they were going, but he had no intentions of hurting the already broken boy in front of him. Blaine shook his head slowly, never allowing his eyes to leave Kurt's own, "No, I don't, Kurt. You?" Even though Blaine thought he knew the answer based on Kurt's fear, he still thought it would be nice to have some sort of sign that Kurt did indeed feel for him.

"Of course not," Kurt said in a quick breathy tone, his smile took Blaine's breath away and he swore he make that smile come to Kurt's face every single day Kurt allowed him to do so.

Kurt worried for a second because although he did have feelings for Blaine, he could practically see the emotion pouring out of his eyes, he was not sure he could let himself get trapped in a relationship.

He did not have a job, he barely had a place to live, he obviously had few friends, and essentially, if a better opportunity popped up, he would go wherever life took him – even far away from Las Vegas.

He also was not so sure he wanted to do that to Blaine – allow the amazing man to get trapped in a relationship with someone like Kurt.

But he wanted it so badly, he wanted to be able to call Blaine his own. He wanted everyone to look at him with jealousy when he walked down the street with Blaine.

Kurt surged forward and captured Blaine's bottom lip in his, gently tugging at it and curling his fingers into Blaine's slightly damp hair.

Blaine returned the kiss in kind, moving his hands firmly down Blaine's back. He kicked his shoes off and ran his socked foot up the inside of Kurt's leg. Blaine waited until he could feel Kurt slacked in his arms and rolled over, pulling Kurt on top of him.

Kurt pulled away with a smack and hovered over Blaine, a slightly winded smile on his face. Testing his grounds, Kurt rolled his hips down against Blaine's, meeting in the middle, both men panting softly at the contact.

"We have to get the rest of the stuff up…" Blaine said between kisses, moving to double the efforts of his hips instead of moving to get off of the mattress.

"All that can wait," Kurt gasped, kissing down the prominent vein on Blaine's neck, nipping slightly at the sensitive flesh.

He moved to bite down lightly on the vein, causing Blaine to see stars and forget any appeals he had. As far as he was concerned, the only thing they needed in the apartment was the mattress.

Kurt grabbed Blaine's hands and pinned them to the mattress above Blaine's head, now kissing his own trail along the dips and peaks of Blaine's collarbone. The man was reduced to groans and attempted to gain any release against Kurt, who diligently worked to keep his hips apart from Blaine's while he explored.

"OH GOD. I'm going to have to get an acid eyewash again," a growly voice said from the doorway. "Though if you both can't even keep it in your pants now, I'd prefer the bed there. I'm two steps away from curing hangnails and I can't have you two ruining it."

"Sue!' Kurt squeaked, jumping off of Blaine and covering his pants with his loose sweater that had somehow been pushed up and almost off of his shoulders.

"Mrs. Sylvester!" Blaine followed Kurt's lead and jumped after him, nearly knocking Kurt into the wall. Having nothing to cover himself, Blaine his behind Kurt slightly.

"Miss Sylvester," Sue corrected him, "Never been interested in marriage myself. I figured no one else would ever be able to hand my perfection. Although," she looked at the sizeable bulge in Blaine's pants, "You look like you'd be ready for anyone, Curls."

Blaine blushed ever more deeply, pressing his forehead against Kurt's neck. Instinctively, Kurt turned and allowed his arms to encircle the shorter boy.

He also tried to swallow down some of the jealousy he felt at the knowledge of Sue looking at Blaine like that.

"I'm going to pour peroxide in my eyes now. If you need anything, don't let me know." With that, Sue saluted the boys and marched down the steps.

Blaine kept his face in Kurt's neck. His eyelashes tickled, but Kurt enjoyed the sensation. "We really need to unpack," he begrudgingly said a few minutes later.

"Still mortified," Blaine mumbled.

Kurt jokingly pushed Blaine away. "Come on, maybe if we get everything don't earlier we can christen the different rooms."

"All four?" Blaine said in mock awe.

"All four," Kurt said with a wink. "And the bed."

"Ah, but therein lies a problem," Blaine said with a slight grin, "that bed has already been christened."

Kurt felt the sting of jealous creep into his body for the second time that day. He knew that Blaine had been with other boys, other men probably. He knew that someone who looked like Blaine and was as talented as Blaine in bed and out of it probably had many partners – anyone he wanted more than likely.

Hell, Kurt had been with more people than he ever wanted to admit.

Burt Kurt knew almost all of his conquests never meant anything to him. In fact, apart from Blaine there was only one other man that he had ever actually felt anything for. Kurt shook the memory from his head, he was not sure he wanted to remember anything from before he moved to Las Vegas.

"You okay?" Blaine said quietly, bumping his nose along Kurt's cheek, "You left me for a minute."

Kurt swallowed thickly and tangled his hand in Blaine's, "Come here," he said quietly, and pulled Blaine throughout the apartment to the small bedroom they would share. Kurt sank to the ground, leaning against the bare wall.

"I thought we were going to unpack and christen later?" Blaine said jokingly.

Kurt looked up at the man, his eyes slightly watery and huge.

Blaine took the hint and sat in front of Kurt, capturing his hand again, "What's up?" his voice was quiet and lacked any of the jovial tones it usually had.

"Blaine," Kurt started quietly, "why are you here?"

"Here as in…this moment, here, with you?" Blaine asked, questions forming on his face.

"No, here as in Vegas. No one really comes here by choice." Kurt knew now was not the opportune moment to have the conversation, but he needed Blaine to know everything about him before they moved any further.

Kurt thought he would be content with just screwing around with Blaine, but instead Kurt knew what he was feeling. The repetitive jealousy that kept swirling to the height of his senses moved him to protect his heart.

Blaine coughed and swallowed thickly, his heart thudding in his chest. "Do you promise you won't judge me?"

Kurt's eyed widened but he nodded. In truth, Kurt was hoping that Blaine wouldn't judge him. He knew the man with a heart of gold sitting across from him would never do anything to hurt anyone, so he could only imagine what Blaine had done.

Blaine sighed and curled his knees into his chest, "I was a week away from graduating high school when I came out. I thought my parents knew, but apparently they were hoping I was just really interested in my studying. Which I was," Blaine laughed a little, "I had a half scholarship to Cornell for pre-med."

Kurt leaned against the wall, he hadn't expected Blaine's story to start off this way. Blaine was so sure of himself, Kurt thought the man had just always been out of the closet.

"Why aren't you there then?" he questioned, knowing that Blaine wasn't possibly smart enough to have graduated in less than a year.

Blaine smiled, "Patience." He recollected himself, "So I came out to my parents one night over dinner. To this day I cannot eat meatloaf without gagging," Blaine interjected, trying to lighten the mood.

Kurt just stared, willing the man to go on.

"Neither took it well to say the least. My father tried to convince me that I was just confused by the plethora of men that surrounded me on a daily basis. My mother blamed it on my father, naturally. His inability to be there for me while I was growing up created a need to replace him in my life and therefore to be gay."

"Was your mother a fucking psychiatrist?" Kurt joked.

"Yes," Blaine said simply.

"Oh," Kurt felt slightly stupid but motioned again for Blaine to continue.

Blaine paused again, seeming to collect his thoughts. "But they both said that they would accept me. They loved me because I was there son. I was on cloud nine, naturally. So I thought it would be a great time to introduce them to my boyfriend Jeremiah. We'd been dating a year," he clarified, "but it was kept quiet on my part. Living at an all boy's school had a few advantages for that."

"They didn't take it well?" Kurt guessed.

"No," Blaine's eyes were comically large, "They told me that it was okay that I was gay just as long as I didn't actually have a boyfriend. They assumed I would just live my life alone and have a parade of men in my bed instead of in my life on a romantic level. It seems they understood the sexual attraction to men but not the romantic attraction. Which is backward if you ask me," Blaine tried to play off the situation, but Kurt could see the pain hiding behind the jokes.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said quietly, trailing his hand up Blaine's arm and trying to comfort him.

Blaine nodded, "It gets worse," his smile cracked a little. "I told Jeremiah that I still wanted to be with him. I told him that we should run away together. I had this beautiful plan that we would go to LA together and I would write music and sing while working my way through a smaller, cheaper medical school. He would model," Blaine's eyes watered a little bit, "because he was beautiful."

Kurt felt the jealousy again, but once again pushed it down because he knew it was not the appropriate time. "What happened?" he said curiously, hoping that a jealous boyfriend wasn't going to visit from Ohio at some point.

"I packed my things straight from my dorm room the night before I was going to graduate." Blaine motioned to the mattress, "I stole some of the sheets and towels and other things I knew I would need but didn't want to waste money on. My parents were gone for a business trip to New York so I had two weeks of money, but I knew once they figured out I was gone, they would cut me off."

"So you didn't go to graduation…" Kurt reasoned, still not trying to ask the obvious question.

"No," Blaine shook his head, "We were leaving that night. So I packed everything in my car and was ready to leave. I told Jeremiah that I would meet him by the playground near his house."

Kurt understood, "He never showed up, did he?"

Blaine shook his head, "No, he didn't. And when I called to make sure he just wasn't getting cold feet…another man answered."

Kurt wanted to cry for Blaine, "Blaine…I …"

"Don't you dare apologize for him," Blaine said hollowly, "He made me angry enough that I drove two days before collapsing at a crappy motel in Nashville. Still nice than yours though."

Kurt nodded quietly, "It only takes about a day and a half to drive…"

"I didn't know where I was going at first," Blaine said honestly, "I didn't have a plan alone. I had a plan with Jeremiah. I was in Nashville for awhile. Then I went to Kansas. Then Houston. Each of those cities held nothing for me."

"So why did you stop here?"

Blaine was quiet again. Eventually with more caresses from Kurt, he continued, "I was on my way to LA, in my head if I achieved our dream, Jeremiah would come for me. However, I had taken so long that two weeks had passed…and my parents came home and figured out what I was doing. I couldn't convince them I was doing some soul searching, so around Santa Fe the cops got me with a car that the owners had reported stolen."

Kurt gasped, "Your parents?"

Blaine nodded, "My very own parents. I spent a night in jail before they withdrew the charges. They offered me money to come home, but I wanted to continue on. I wrote Cornell and told them I wouldn't be going, especially because my parents took away all money I had. I caught rides until I arrived in Las Vegas. I quickly found Mike and got a job…I stayed here. It was the only city that held promise."

"And your parents?"

"I called them," Blaine admitted, "Quite a few times. But they just said they wanted nothing to do with me. Apparently they went to Dalton and cleaned up my remaining items and found condoms. Even though I was allowed to be with Jeremiah sexually, this bothered them…that I had done it without their permission first. I was told I was disgusting and that their son no longer existed to them." Blaine let a few tears fall, "I thought that maybe they would call me on my birthday, but they never did. Then I thought maybe Christmas…but no. I called my mom on her birthday, but she didn't answer."

Kurt felt his heart break for the man. Kurt knew that both of his parents always loved him. Blaine still had both parents in his life, but they were constantly hurting him by not even being around.

"So that's it?" Kurt asked sadly, "You aren't trying?"

"No," Blaine shrugged, "I made my own little family at the club and now I have you," Blaine smiled sadly at Kurt, "I have enough. They'll come around eventually."

"And if they don't?"

"If they don't," Blaine nodded, "I think they lost out on a pretty good person."

Kurt wanted to walk out of the apartment and save Blaine. He would only cause Blaine more pain. Kurt would never mean to Blaine what Jeremiah did. Blaine's eyes sparkled and shone when he talked about Jeremiah.

Kurt let his jealousy take over and lunged for Blaine again, pushing him back against the synthetic fibers of the carpet.

Blaine let out a surprised whimper as Kurt edged his hips forwards and pressed their groins together, simultaneously sucking on Blaine's tongue. "W-Wait," he panted, fingers threading through Kurt's hair – careful not to mess it up. "We... We need to unpack…" Blaine also didn't want to say he wasn't feeling in the mood.

Kurt rolled his hips against Blaine's, smirking as Blaine's gave in and allowed himself to feel. "Let me make you feel," Kurt whispered, tracing his finger up and down Blaine's thigh.

"Do you want me to stop...?" Kurt whispered, mouth trailing wetly over Blaine's neck.

"No," Blaine gasped, hips jerking as Kurt moved again. It took another few moments of intense making out and a few more grinds before Kurt slid him mouth to Blaine's ear and suckled it quickly before whispering, "I want to blow you..."

"You-... What...?" he asked, his heart beating quickly as any memories that remained faded out.

"I want to blow you," Kurt said through his teeth.

"Yessss," Blaine said lowly, "Please."

Kurt was between his legs and a slim, pale hand wrapped around him. Kurt slowly leaned in, his eyes closing as his tongue rolled across the base of Blaine's cock.

"... Kurt..." Blaine's hands were trying to grasp something, knuckles white as Kurt's tongue slowly lapped its way up towards the tip, each wet brush making Blaine's thighs shake. "_Kurt_..." he groaned, not caring if Sue Sylvester needed to pour bleach in her ears the next day.

Blaine tipped his head back, eyes closed because the sight of Kurt looking up at him, cheeks hollowed around his cock, was way too much to handle at the moment – he could barely remember how to control his breathing and wanted to focus solely on the feeling of Kurt's tongue.

Kurt's hand was gentle on Blaine's thigh, the other slowly squeezed what didn't quite fit in his mouth as he sucked, watching the way Blaine almost seemed to flinch and whine with each motion his mouth made.

It was addicting, the taste in Kurt's mouth a lot more pleasant than he'd remembered, and a lot more erotic. His tongue found this interesting spot that made Blaine choke out a rough noise every time he slid over it, and when he tightened his lips around the head it made Blaine's hips twitch. Kurt risked another glance up and was greeted by the sight of his boyfriend's face drawn in pleasure so intense it almost looked like pain, and he couldn't help the way his lips twisted into a ghost of a smirk.

Blaine slowly reached down, his hand shaking as he cupped Kurt's cheek, his thumb brushing over Kurt's eyebrow and watching as those beautiful eyes flickered closed as Kurt moaned around him. "K-Kurt... I-... I can't...baby…baby" he choked out, knees threatening to buckle as he felt Kurt's mouth tighten around his cock, the broad, wet swipe of his tongue, the way Kurt's hand tightened around..

Kurt's fingers dug into Blaine's thigh as the boy's hips jerked, a low, ragged moan spilling from his lips as Kurt's mouth was suddenly full of cum, hot and strong and a taste that Kurt immediately wanted more of.

Kurt's throat worked to swallow while breathing through his nose, eyes fixed on Blaine's, which were wide, and staring down at Kurt as if he's the most incredible thing in the world, a look that made Kurt's cock throb and his cheeks heat up. Finally, Blaine whimpered, the sensation too much and Kurt slowly pulled back with one last swallow, running his tongue over his lips and smirking. "Good...?" he murmured, voice a little huskier as Blaine let out a shaky exhale and helped Kurt up, kissing him immediately, deep and messy.

Blaine flipped them over and was about to kiss down Kurt's body when Kurt pulled away, "Blaine…"

"Kurt?" Blaine still looked completely wrecked and Kurt felt his heart constrict.

"No," Kurt said softly, "I don't want…"

"You don't?" Blaine looked hurt, "But sweetheart…"

"No," Kurt stood and adjusted his clothes, "I'm not your sweetheart, Blaine."

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><p><strong>Don't shoot! I have reasons. Reviews?<strong>


	9. Bars

**Hello everyone! Did everyone just adore that Klaine-packed episode? Anyway - here you all go, I apologize in advance for the cliffhanger. :/**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

Kurt rested his head against the hard, cold bar in front of him. He wanted to simply melt into the wood and never escape. "Fuck," he muttered occasionally. He'd been nursing the same scotch for the past hour, not quite sure how he was going to pay for it when he actually chose to leave the bar.

What he actually wanted was to bang his head repeatedly off of the bar until he could forget about Blaine, the words Blaine said, and the way Blaine made him feel.

In essence, he wanted to forget about Blaine.

But he didn't, in reality. He wanted to forget the one word that changed everything. The one word neither of them had said aloud. The one word that Kurt didn't even know if Blaine wanted to say.

_Boyfriend._

Kurt had actually allowed himself to believe, even if it was only in his head, even if it was when his own guard was down, that Blaine was his boyfriend.

"Shit, shit, shit," Kurt repeated like a mantra. He knew he was garnering looks but could not care less as he tipped his head back and finished his drink with a gulp.

Because, in reality, Kurt wanted him to be. He wanted Blaine in so many ways. He wanted to know every nook and cranny of the boy's haunted mind. He wanted to know Blaine's laughter, his tears, his hopes, dreams, ambitions, everything. Kurt wanted everything to do with Blaine, and that scared the hell out of him.

He was attracted to Blaine in every sense of the word: physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Even though they'd only been physical, and Kurt knew that sexually Blaine was the most amazing man he'd ever been with, he knew the feelings ran deeper.

The part of Kurt that had been shut down for two years, the part of him that he kept hidden from the world, opened up when Blaine was around.

But Blaine was so beautifully broken. Blaine's insecurities and failures left him driven for more instead of causing him to run away to a bar like Kurt did. He pushed forward and worked to prove to everyone that he was more than a name, a label, or a sexuality. He was everything Kurt wanted to be – and he was so young.

Blaine left people behind who didn't love him, people who he needed to get away from.

Blaine may have run, but he did so because he needed to. He ran so he could live his life that way he wanted to, without any questions.

Kurt just ran away from everything because he was too afraid to face it.

Blaine may have thought that he ran away, but Kurt was the king of running when things were too much for him to handle.

He was about to leave the bar and go find Blaine, prove that yes, he did run away again, but he was going to run back and make things better for everyone, but then he felt a hand on his back, sliding up and down.

Kurt turned with a huge smile because surely it must mean something if Blaine searched all of Las Vegas to find him in an ordinary bar.

Although the man his eyes met did not belong to Blaine.

"Sebastian," Kurt said coolly, "Why are you here?"

Sebastian said nothing but pointed to Kurt's empty glass and motioned for the bartender to bring two more down for the man. He settled onto the stool next to Kurt, his posture easygoing and laidback.

Kurt's back was set ramrod straight and alert. He didn't trust Sebastian.

"Nice suit," Kurt offered, examining the darkest black jacket and well tailored pants.

"Tom Ford," Sebastian said with a glint in his eyes.

Kurt smiled, he knew the surefire way to get Sebastian talking was to send a compliment his way. "How did you know I was here?" Kurt asked again, ignoring the glass in front of him.

Sebastian grinned, "How do you think I know? I heard you were moving in with the Hobbit and when I went to drop off a little housewarming present for both of you," he paused and moved his head a little, "one to Blaine from my father and sister and then one to you from me, of course, I ran into the most extraordinary woman. She said that Blaine was upstairs crying like he lost the ring."

Kurt's head snapped up, "Blaine was crying?"

The laugh that came from Sebastian was crass and made Kurt wince. "Yes, what did you do to him? Turn him down? I know not everyone can be as good as I am in bed, but can't you at least give the poor kid a pity fuck? His parents hate him because he's gay, though I'd venture to guess they hated him before that based on his hair."

Kurt wanted to tell Sebastian how repulsive he was. He wanted to tell him that his skills in bed were equal to that of a rock. But mostly, he wanted to bash the man's head in for his comments against Blaine. In the end, he decided saying nothing was his best bet.

"Why are you living with him anyway?" Sebastian continued, "I told you that you could live in the penthouse with me. For free."

"Because he treats me like a human being and not some charity case," Kurt said coolly again as he clutched to his rapidly emptying glass.

Sebastian downed his own scotch and ordered an additional two glasses even though Kurt protested. "It wouldn't be charity if you lived with your boyfriend."

"I am not your boyfriend," Kurt scoffed.

"Not yet."

"Not ever!" Kurt was down three scotches at this point and felt his fight drive kick in, "Sebastian, you were never going to be my boyfriend."

Sebastian ordered more, simply biding his time.

Sebastian knew more about Kurt than he let on. The man was not as simple as many people thought. He was the son of one of the shrewdest businessmen in all of Las Vegas and he'd picked up many hints over the years. He knew exactly what he was doing to the pale man who was sitting next to him getting drunker by the second. He knew Kurt's resolve would eventually fade and he would need someone to pick up the pieces. That was where Sebastian made himself available for comfort and more. It was a brilliant plan in Sebastian's head, and Kurt was playing perfectly well into the game.

Sebastian knew how the game worked, he'd been playing it for years. Kurt would finally get a plan to leave Las Vegas behind and Sebastian would get him drink enough that the doubts started creeping in and taking their hold on him, leaving him basically lost until the resolve would build up again.

Lather, rinse, repeat; it was so simple that Sebastian could do it in his sleep.

Blaine would eventually leave, Sebastian knew that. He would find out the true history of Kurt and runaway with his tail between his legs. Sure, Blaine was gorgeous and probably great in bed, but he wasn't the one Sebastian wanted.

When Blaine left, Kurt would be all his. That was why he convinced his father to rehire the man, to give him a second chance; so he could earn money and get the hell out of Las Vegas.

Sebastian ordered another scotch for the man.

"I don't need any more of those," Kurt pointed to the empty cups, "it isn't even six yet! I can't drink another one."

Sebastian shrugged and sipped his own drink, "I still have that housewarming gift for you. In case you want it before you pass out on that bar stool."

Kurt raised an eyebrow and limply held out his hand.

Sebastian placed the big box right into Kurt's hand. The box weighed practically nothing, but it still made Kurt swerve a little bit. He made a face at the box, "It is light…"

"Open it," Sebastian ordered.

Kurt pulled the paper off of the box and made a face, "A Tiffany Lamp? Thank you?" his face tried to hide the confusion and the disgust he felt looking at the box, but his drunken state allowed Sebastian to read him like a book.

"I know it isn't your style…." Sebastian prodded with a knowing glance toward Kurt. The man was going to follow through with his part of the script perfectly.

"It really isn't," Kurt admitted with a frown, "but thank you anyway. I never realized they were so light," he slurred.

"I mean, I figured you'd pawn it anyway," Sebastian said with an airy voice, "so I saved you the time," the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a huge billfold of money. "I pawned it myself."

"You are a crazy motherfucker," Kurt whispered, "why didn't you just give me the money for the Tiffany Lamp if it meant that much to you?"

Sebastian acted like it was the greatest suggestion he'd ever heard, "You know, I didn't think of that!"

Kurt rolled his eyes and almost tipped off of the stool, "Thank you for thinking of me though…it means a lot…"

Sebastian almost declared victory in that very moment. Kurt was looking at him like he was a king, and Sebastian knew the game was in the very last few minutes of the fourth quarter.

He would not tell Kurt that the reason he pawned it was because he didn't want to take any chances that the pawn shop would be closed before he could give it to him, and then Kurt would have to take the lamp home and let Blaine see it.

Kurt snapped his head toward Sebastian, "How did you know I pawned everything you gave me?"

Sebastian gave him a pained look, "Well you never wore any of it, and I'm not a complete idiot."

Kurt colored, which was difficult given his already flushed state, "You aren't mad?"

Sebastian shrugged, "It's your life…and they are just things. I can always get more."

Kurt nodded, clearly not even listening to what Sebastian was saying.

"So about the sex…" Sebastian tried, figuring he had Kurt eating out of the palm of his hand already.

"No," Kurt stood on wobbly legs and had to use the bar for support, "I have to go find Blaine. I have to tell him that I want to be his boyfriend. No more bad sex, Sebastian. I will have good sex. With Blaine."

Sebastian nearly fell off of his stool, "Fine," he collected his wallet and slammed money onto the bar, "You weren't great in bed anyway. I can get that from anyone."

Kurt knew Sebastian was bluffing but he shrugged and exited the bar quickly, hoping the man would not follow him.

Kurt knew that now he had money and could have hailed a cab. He knew it was probably the safer approach, but the mile and a half walk back to the apartment would do something that a cab ride never could – sober him up. He wanted Blaine to know that he was serious and that is wasn't just lust or alcohol talking. Blaine had to know what was going on, he had to know everything. Blaine had to know so he could get over Kurt. Or love Kurt. Or just trust that Kurt left for a reason, maybe not a good one, but a reason.

Blaine had to know everything so he could make a choice.

The walk successfully started sobering Kurt up and by the time he reached the apartment his feet hurt in his worn down shoes and his liquid courage was nowhere to be found. He was nervous as hell and had no idea what to expect when he got into their home.

He climbed the steps quietly and slipped into the apartment. The first thing Kurt noticed was that many of the boxes were gone. He panicked at first because he thought Blaine had moved out. But there was a glow coming from the living room so he followed the light and saw that instead of a bare living room, it now looked almost like a home.

The white Christmas lights gave everything a glow, and even though Kurt thought he would hate it, constantly being surrounded by lights, he loved it.

"They were cheaper than regular lamps," Blaine said a croaky voice as he emerged from the bathroom. He sniffed a little, "You're drunk."

"I was drunk," Kurt corrects and then changes the topic immediately, "I like it." Much like the Tiffany Lamp, it really wasn't his style, but he loved the effort Blaine put into it.

"Where were you?" Blaine asked gently, leaning against the doorframe. Kurt could see his face was rubbed ray and his eyes were rimmed in red. Kurt hated that he caused Blaine to cry. He just wanted to cradle Blaine in his arms and protect him from everything, even if that included himself.

"I needed to clear my head," Kurt pulled the thick fold of money out from his pocket.

Blaine looked at the money with wide eyes and took a few shaky steps back toward the bedroom, "Oh. Well…I see…"

Kurt looked down at the billfold and realized what Blaine thought. "Oh god, Blaine no, this isn't…I didn't…"

But Blaine snapped. He was tired of always playing the good guy. He was sick of being walked on by everyone. "I see. Wait, I'll go get my money so I can pay you as well. Although I don't know if I can afford your rates." The look of disgust on Blaine's face, direct right at Kurt, made him want to crawl into a ball.

Instead, it sent Kurt's walls plummeting to the ground. Blaine was the only person Kurt thought he truly had. Kurt didn't want to be jaded or hurt anymore. He wanted to be himself. "Blaine," he whispered, tears falling quickly and silently, "I thought you said it didn't matter to you…"

"It didn't! I understand you needed to survive and that was away to do it," Blaine roared across the room, making Kurt shiver back in fear, "but after you knew I had feelings for you, that I cared about you, you still slept with him again? I told you I could loan you money!"

"I didn't!" Kurt tried to find a way to explain to Blaine why he had the money, "Seb…Sebastian gave me a lamp as a present and the money…"

Blaine's face immediately softened, "a lamp…he gave you a lamp…"

Kurt nodded, a smile on his face. He wanted Blaine to believe him even though it sounded crazy. He hopes Blaine's smile in return meant something.

"I suppose you wouldn't make that up," Blaine reasoned. He wasn't exactly sure if that was the actual reason or he was going to stop fighting because he really wanted to believe the best in Kurt.

"No," Kurt said with a laugh, "That is a level of creativity I have not yet hit." He dabbed at his eyes with the side of his hand, he wasn't quite sure if he was home free yet.

Blaine broke first and laughed, "You look really pitiful."

"I feel pitiful," Kurt admitted. The world was losing the fuzzy edge it had and he already felt a headache coming on.

Blaine didn't want to feel sympathy. With the anger gone, he felt the sting of rejection, still strong, still painful. "Go take a shower. I'll get you some food together. You aren't going to live on cigarettes and booze anymore."

Kurt wanted to fall into Blaine's arms and forget about showering, but he knew a part of Blaine was still upset with him over everything. But Kurt wanted to look his best when he appealed to Blaine.

He needed some sort of advantage.

Kurt took nearly an hour in the shower, making sure his skin was completely soft. He even used lotion when he left the shower, now stalling. When he walked out of the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips, he moved from box to box looking for clothes. He skipped over his usual wardrobe of sweatpants and tank tops. Instead, he put on a pair of black yoga pants and a warm, light blue, off the shoulder sweater. He slipped into the clothes and immediately felt better.

He was home.

Kurt padded his way into the kitchen and saw Blaine stirring a pot on the stove. Blaine had changed into dark blue sweatpants and a tight, white beater. The sweatpants were low on his hips and Kurt wanted to trace out every muscle with his tongue.

No, he couldn't think like that, he had to think of emotions.

He had the sudden urge to wrap his arms around Blaine and help him make dinner, like a real family. "Hey," he said softly, sidling next to Blaine.

The younger man glanced at Kurt and some of the ice chipped away from around his heart. "You look nice," he muttered.

Kurt couldn't help himself, so he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Blaine's cheek, eliciting a small smile from him. "Thank you."

"This is almost done," Blaine said absently as he stirred the macaroni.

Kurt's stomach lurched, it had been awhile since he'd eaten real food.

"I'm not the best cook," Blaine worried as he cut hot dogs into the macaroni. "This is all I can do."

"It looks delicious," Kurt assured him, busying himself with some cups. He wondered when Blaine had time to grocery shop.

Kurt knew the meal was probably more calories, fat, and sodium than he usually ate in a week; it was glorious.

Blaine put scoops of the meal on their plates, Kurt noticed that he got twice what Blaine had on his own.

He carried their plates into the living room area and sat sideways on the loveseat, motioning for Kurt to do the same, "Eat first. You need it."

They ate in silence but neither could resist the glances they shot each other. Blaine's were haunting and mournful while Kurt's held hope.

Kurt just wanted to feel someone close to him, to know someone was finally in his corner.

To have someone he would be too afraid to run away from.

But he didn't want just someone, he wanted Blaine.

He couldn't eat even half of his serving and that broke Blaine's heart. He knew he couldn't allow these small things to lighten his mood about Kurt, but they always did.

Kurt had a way around his emotions that no one else did.

Blaine stood and took their plates, cleaning them off. He needed to buy himself more time so he made them two cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows.

He sat back on the couch and looked at Kurt who wrapped his hands firmly around the mug, seemingly trying to get something to anchor him.

"I need to know," Blaine said, suddenly pleading with Kurt, "I need to know you are the way you are," he sighed, "I wanted you to take your time, but I need to know. I need to know so I can try to find a way to get over you. Things like that…they take me awhile."

"I do care for you," Kurt said quietly, "you mean so much to me."

"But not enough," Blaine's voice was quiet and his eyes were downcast.

"More than anything," Kurt said simply.

"Then why can't we be together?"

"We can," it was Kurt's turn to plead with Blaine.

"But..you found out about Jeremiah and you left. I thought you realized what he realized, that I wasn't completely unlovable and you deserve better…"

"No!" Kurt leapt over to Blaine and wrapped his arms protectively around the man's neck, "Please don't ever think that. Ever, Blaine."

Blaine wasn't sure how to respond to the boy's affection. He hugged back gently, rubbing his hands over the foreign feeling of Kurt's sweater, "Kurt, you have to explain what happened," he whispered as gently as he could.

"You want to know why I walked out," Kurt said slowly, "I can't believe you think it was because of you…"

"Then why did you do it?" Blaine closed his eyes in a flutter, trying to collect himself.

"You called me sweetheart," Kurt began…

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><p><strong>I'm updating this asap, don't worry. :)<strong>


	10. Confidence

**Warning: Sad, just really sad.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Blaine just looked at him, "That's all? Kurt, I can call you something else…I don't have to call you anything other than Kurt if that's truly what you want. But…Kurt, if you are going to get that angry over something so small, something as simple as a name, we are really in for a tough ride here. You could have just said that before…" Blaine blabbered, truly wondering what he was getting himself into.

"No, it's just…" Kurt faltered and played with his sleeves, the clothing still foreign on his body, "You aren't the first person to call me that…and I don't think…I mean, I don't want…" Kurt sighed; he had no idea how to go about telling Blaine everything.

He did not want him to run.

Blaine nodded finally in understanding, "And you aren't over him. I understand," he waved a hand sadly, a look of disappointment passing over his features. He shifted a little further away from Kurt, not trying to catch his eye.

Kurt flooded with relief. He was so over his ex, but the look on Blaine's face told him that he was not going to lose him.

Blaine was afraid to lose him, and Kurt was not quite sure he could believe it. No one had ever felt that about him before.

"No," Kurt threaded his hand into Blaine's and squeezed it tightly. "I don't have feelings for anyone but you," he promised. "Not that I know where or when they developed anyway," he said with a wink and a giggle.

Blaine made a noise of agreement, but some of the color flooded back into his cheeks.

Kurt looked down at their clasped hands and sighed, "I guess I should start at the beginning."

Blaine rubbed up and down Kurt's arm, "only tell me what you feel comfortable saying. The rest will come out when it is ready."

If Kurt was not sure he was going to tell Blaine everything before, now he was. He knew Blaine would not judge him and he was not just going to hear Kurt's story, he would actually listen.

"When I was in high school, I was bullied a lot. I was thrown into lockers and slushied," at Blaine's look of confusion, "You know the iced drinks you can get at gas stations? Yeah, I got those thrown in my face. Anyway, a few Neanderthals made it their own personal missions to ruin my life. Everyone in my school knew what was going on, but no one did anything. So instead of reaching out, I curled inside myself. I barely talked to anyone my junior year, and I talked to even less my senior year. I told myself that if I got out of Lima, Ohio, all of my troubles would be over."

Blaine just looked at Kurt with sympathy in his eyes, he blinked a few times and it turned to pride, "But look at you, you made it out! You survived, Kurt!"

Kurt nodded with a hollow laugh, "Barely. Throughout that time I really only had one person, my father. He became my best friend, my father, my everything really. I worked overtime at his garage for the money to leave Lima. He sat with me when I was alone on my birthday, prom night, and graduation. I opted out of all of it just because I did not want to remember high school. Through it all, my dad was the only person there," Kurt paused because he knew the next part would be difficult for Blaine to hear, "he didn't care that I was gay. He did not care if I would have been sexually attracted to a bottle of water. He just loved me." Kurt sat there in silence, trying to remember every moment with his father, "he used to throw me tea parties until I told him I was too old for them. I was sixteen," Kurt laughed, though a few tears trickled out of his eyes.

Blaine sucked in a shaky breath, because he knew what was coming soon, he knew Kurt's father was dead. "What…what was his name?" he asked as delicately as he could.

"Burt, Burt Hummel," Kurt nodded slowly, "the greatest man to ever walk the earth, in my opinion."

Blaine gave a sad smile to Kurt, "Do you want to stop talking about it?"

Kurt shook his head, he knew that since the wound was already open, he should just keep going. "I did," he paused and nodded; he had not truly been ready to start again. "I did go to New York. I saved up enough money, I got into Parson's School. I had friends, I had a boyfriend, Ricky, I had a metro card that wasn't one time use. I should have known everything was going to fall."

Blaine stroked over the soft skin on Kurt's hands, he could not say anything but he wanted Kurt to know that he was there for him, no matter what the next few stories held.

"Ricky and I were really good together," Kurt started, "he was the son of a Wall Street broker from Hoboken. He moved to New York to go to Columbia for pre-law and we met one night at a bar. I was completely different then," Kurt qualified, "I thought I was God's gift to everyone because a few guys were looking at me. When I saw Ricky, I thought the heavens had opened up. I was really naïve," he stroked Blaine's hands back, trying to show that Ricky truly did mean nothing to him.

"Ricky was really well off; like, insanely so. He paid for our apartment and we started living together. It was a good life, Blaine. I would compare it almost to the fifties houses, where the love kind of wore off between us, but we still stayed together for the kids. Meaning our cats," Kurt quickly fixed, knowing Blaine would jump to the conclusion that Kurt had a bastard son somewhere.

Blaine scowled, "Did he touch you, Kurt? Did he hit you?"

"No!" Kurt shook his head, "No, he would have never laid a hand on me. I would see later that might have been one of our bigger problems. The sex kind of fizzled out…"

Blaine could not help but grin, "We won't have to worry about that."

Kurt allowed a small squeal of happiness to escape his throat. "I'm sorry, that was undignified," he could feel his blush.

Blaine realized that Kurt needed a few minutes of something not so heavy so he laughed and soothed the man's skin again, "I've heard you make far more undignified noises that were glorious, Kurt."

Kurt blushed deeper and swatted at Blaine's shoulder. "ANYWAY," he sighed heavily, "I just need to get this out okay? I know now that you will not be upset, so I just want you to know. So you can make the decision that Ricky had to make…I just hope it isn't the same one."

"If he let you go, I know it won't be," Blaine said seriously, settling back in to the sofa and pulling Kurt towards him, "I figure you're going to need someone to hold you."

Kurt once again felt a surge of emotion toward the man who now cradled him in his arms. They were both silent again for a few minutes before Kurt started. "It was almost a year and half later when I got the phone call that my father was dead," Kurt was blunt, but he did not know how else to see it.

"Kurt…I'm so sorry," Blaine started.

"Don't," Kurt held up his hand, "Blaine…in my New York City living haze, I called my father maybe once or twice a week, if that. It had been a week and a half since I'd called my father when I received the call from the coroner that he was dead."

Blaine just breathed, trying not to apologize over and over again to Kurt.

"Blaine, he'd been dead five days. He lay in his bed, dead, alone, for five days and I didn't even realize it. This was the man who was always there for me and I didn't even call him, I let him rot," Kurt let the tears fall again.

Blaine winced but held Kurt tighter, "Baby…we get busy, and we do not always call the people we need to in order to check up on them. I'm sure your father was young and you couldn't have known…"

Kurt nodded, "It wasn't that I hadn't called him, really. It was the fact that Paul Karofsky, the father of one of my tormentors in high school, was the one to realize there was definitely something wrong."

"How?" Blaine was confused and wondered if he had missed a part of the story.

"My father owned a garage, I'm sorry, I forgot to mention that. It becomes quite important," Kurt rubbed his temple, "Paul was coming in to get his oil changed and my father wasn't there for his appointment. My father was always in the garage."

Blaine nodded, "Kurt, it wasn't your fault. I'll tell you that again."

Kurt shivered. Even Ricky had not told him that it was not his fault. Even Carol, his father's on-again, off-again girlfriend had not told him that.

Blaine still did not understand why Kurt thought this was enough to send him away, or why Ricky was out of the picture.

"So naturally I had to go home for awhile to take care of things, the bills, the house, the garage, everything basically. My father left me everything in his will. I thought I would be set for life because my father was a great businessman who had over half of Lima coming to his shop. It turns out that he had so many customers because he really was a big old softy. He did not make people pay bills he knew they could not. He never hounded people who were behind payments. He was falling behind in payments for the house, he had so much credit card debt it was ridiculous, and the shop was two steps away from getting taken."

Blaine was starting to understand, "He left you debt."

Kurt nodded, "I mean, if situations were different, I know that was the last thing he would want to do. But it happened and I used all of the money he left me and all of the money I had to make sure he had a proper funeral, burial, and that everything that held his name was taken care of with dignity and respect. It was the least I could do."

Blaine did not want to be insensitive, but a question was on the tip of his tongue, "Why didn't you just cremate him?"

Kurt gave another hollow laugh; it was a sound Blaine was growing to hate. "He didn't want that. He wanted to be buried next to my mother."

Blaine nodded in understanding, "That makes sense," he said, once again rubbing up and down Kurt's arms that were covered in goose bumps.

Kurt continued on, "I went back to Ricky and told him about everything. I told him that I was completely broke and he told me he couldn't be with someone who was poor."

Blaine understood, Ricky had hit Kurt in his dignity, the one place where Blaine knew it would hurt Kurt more than anything would.

"I couldn't stay in New York, obviously. I had no money and New York is a bit expensive."

"So is Las Vegas," Blaine reasoned.

Kurt nodded, "I pawned a lot of my stuff in New York and got enough to get about halfway here. Then I, um…" Kurt paused, "this is where it gets a little…you can leave me if you want."

Blaine shook his head, "Never."

"I traded," Kurt paused and Blaine could feel him shaking in his arms, "I traded sex for rides, Blaine," Kurt's voice was quiet, ashamed.

Blaine stiffened before he could control it. "Kurt," Blaine's voice came out tormented. However, not for himself, not because he was jealous of anyone else who got to touch Kurt. He was tormented because Kurt, his beautiful, perfect, flawed, and gorgeous Kurt had to resort to something like that.

Blaine hated the thought of Kurt being demeaned in anyway.

"I know," Kurt went to move away but Blaine encircled his arms even tighter around the small waist of the man, "Blaine?"

"You aren't running away from me, Kurt." Blaine said in a serious voice, "you made a few mistakes? Oh well, have not we all. And you know what? You are probably going to make a whole hell of a lot more and I probably will too. But if we both run away to new lives when someone figures us out, soon there will be nowhere else to run."

"You're kind of smart for a boy," Kurt turned and nuzzled his way into Blaine's neck, "can that be enough serious for tonight?"

"From you," Blaine said quietly, "Kurt…I think we need to talk about us."

"What about us?" Kurt asked quietly.

"I would like to be your boyfriend," Blaine said simply, holding his breath in once the words were out.

"I would like that too," Kurt pressed a kiss into Blaine's jaw, "I would love that."

"But," Blaine began, pausing for dramatic effect.

"But what?"

Blaine sat up and turned Kurt because he wanted the man to know he was entirely serious, "There needs to be a few ground rules."

Kurt nodded seriously.

"These go for both of us, not just me," Blaine bit his cheek, "No smoking, and no more alcohol. No running away. No sex with other men. We have to be completely honest with each other about everything. I think we should just both attempt to stay away from Sebastian. We are going to start building a life, Kurt, and I want it to be clean and filled with sunshine, happiness, rainbows, and puppies for both of us. I think we have both had enough sadness for a few lifetimes. Do you agree?"

Kurt nodded slowly, "Blaine, the smoking thing will be hard. I hate it, I really do, but it has become a part of me."

"I know," Blaine was once again more free and loving with his touches, "and I don't expect this to be a cold turkey, perfect fix. Nevertheless, we have to strive to make every single day better. Now, what can I do that used to make you happy?"

"Sex?" Kurt tried with a smile. The tightness and sheer nature of Blaine's tank top had been driving him crazy for the last few hours and he wanted nothing more than to tear it off with his teeth.

"No," Blaine shook his head, "we are not going to have sex tonight. This," he motioned between the two men, "is not about sex only."

Kurt whimpered in protest.

"We will have sex," Blaine soothed Kurt, he knew Kurt was afraid their relationship would turn into the same one he had with Ricky, "but not tonight Kurt."

Kurt nodded, thankful in a way that Blaine did not agree to sex.

"What else?" Blaine goaded gently.

"Dancing," Kurt said quietly, "I used to like to dance…but I never actually got to do it with someone else…"

"But Ricky," Blaine started, his eyes narrowing.

"Ricky didn't like to dance," Kurt said simply, "he would watch me dance."

"Well, I don't like to dance either but I will dance with you." Blaine sighed, "but we don't have music."

Kurt worried his bottom lip, "I have an iPod and speakers."

Blaine looked surprised.

"I couldn't pawn my iPod. It was a gift from my father and holds all of the things that kept me sane for years." Kurt explained.

"Okay, go get it," Blaine stood and starting rifling through one of the boxes for something.

When Kurt emerged from the bedroom with the iPod in his hand and his set of cheap speakers, his eyes lit up. Blaine had put small candles all over the apartment.

"If Sue sees those, she is going to send the military after us," Kurt said softly, his eyes sparkling to life with the flame reflecting in them.

Blaine just smiled and held out his arms, "Dance with me, Kurt."

Kurt placed the speakers on the coffee table and hit play.

"I know this song," Blaine said softly as Kurt situated himself in his arms.

Kurt blushed, "my iPod hasn't been updated in awhile."

_Wondering the streets, in a world underneath it all_  
><em>Nothing seems to be, nothing tastes as sweet<br>As what I can't have  
>Like you and the way that you're twisting your hair<br>round your finger  
>Tonight I'm not afraid to tell you<br>What I feel about you._

Kurt held Blaine gently but firmly. He kept moving his hand up and down Blaine's back, making sure the man in his arms was still real.

_I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have  
>and cannon ball into the water<br>I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have  
>For you I will<br>For you I will_

Blaine leaned in and softly kissed Kurt, not wanting things to get too far, but still wanting that connection with him. Kurt willingly opened his mouth and allowed Blaine to go further.

_Forgive me if I stutter  
>From all of the clutter in my head<br>Cuz I could fall asleep in those eyes  
>Like a water bed<br>Do I seem familiar, I've crossed you in hallways  
>a thousand times, no more camouflage<br>I want to be exposed, and not be afraid to fall._

Both men had no idea what was going to happen in the future. They had no idea if they could survive whatever Vegas had to throw their way. They knew that the conversation from tonight was just the beginning of a life that would hopefully get better, but was going to be hard as long as they stayed in the city.

_I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have  
>And cannon ball into the water<br>I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have  
>For you I will<br>You always want what you can't have  
>But I've got to try<br>I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have  
>For you I will<br>For you I will  
>For you I will<br>For you_

Kurt let out a giggle as he spun Blaine out and pulled him back in, their socked feet slipping on the floor slightly as they started playing around. For once, Kurt felt all of the weight lift off of his shoulders and he allowed himself to just feel.

_If I could dim the lights in the mall  
>And create a mood I would<br>Shout out your name so it echoes in every room  
>I would<em>

_That's what I'd do, That's what I'd do to get through to you_

Blaine dipped Kurt backwards, pretending to drop him before pulling him back up and into another kiss. They did not let this one go as far; they just cherished the feeling of each other.

_I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have  
>And cannon ball into the water<br>I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have  
>For you I will<br>You always want what you can't have  
>But I've got to try<br>I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have  
>For you I will<br>For you I will  
>For you I will<br>For you I will_

Kurt couldn't help but think that somewhere, wherever it possibly was, his father was smiling down on the boy that very much saved his son's life.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews?<strong>

**Also, if you haven't checked it out yet, I have another fic called _Daddies' Girls_ based on _The Parent Trap_ that is COMPLETELY different from this, but you should still give it a chance!**


	11. Minuet

**I'm really sorry this got so out of hand in length...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

"Kurt!" Blaine jumped on the bed repeatedly until Kurt awoke with a growl and a pillow poorly tossed toward the hyperactive man jumping on his bed. "Kurrrrrtttt. Wake up! Wake up, Kurt! KURT!" Blaine jumps once for every word, which is enough to send Kurt into a fit of laughter that he pointedly tries to hide.

"I agreed to live with a kangaroo, didn't I?" Kurt moans from under his pillow, "An annoying kangaroo at that!"

Blaine jumps once more before collapsing next to Kurt, nearly taking off his shoulder. "I have good news!"

Kurt turned his head and Blaine was positive he never saw anything more adorable. Kurt had red lines covering his perfect porcelain face and his eyes were still filled with sleep, "That's great, but shouldn't you be getting ready for work?"

"Nope," Blaine put his hands behind his head and stared cockily at the ceiling, nearly begging Kurt to ask him why.

"Okay, I'll give, why?" Kurt had now rolled completely over and tentatively put a hand on Blaine's chest.

Blaine immediately raised his hands to cover Kurt's and smiled, "We're going to celebrate."

"Celebrate what exactly?" The fact that they had not collapsed already? They had been together over a week, so it was a definite milestone for Kurt.

Blaine pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and fiddled with some buttons.

"Welcome to Verizon Voicemail, please insert your code followed by pound," his phone said aloud before, "you have one saved message. To hear your message press," Blaine pressed the button before the phone could finish and held it closer to Kurt even though it was on speakerphone.

"Porcelain! I have no idea where you are but I figured it would be with the Dapper Delight, so I got his phone number. Shelby had to fire the new bartender already because he was slipping drugs into the different drinks, so she wants you back. If I were you, I would haggle her for a better pay rate and better hours. Also, I'm going to slap you so hard you fly back to New York for just running away and not telling anyone where you were going. We have all been crazy worried about you! Anyway, call me back. And if this is Blaine and Kurt isn't with you – go find him you asshole!"

Kurt laughed loudly at the ending of the message and just rolled his eyes at Blaine, "At least I'm going to get my job back too."

Blaine rolled over and trailed a hand on Kurt's jawbone, "I told you there were people who would fight for you to get everything you want," he said softly. "I told you there were more people who care about you than you ever thought," he leaned in and kissed Kurt tenderly. The kiss was the most gentle Kurt had felt in years and it took everything he had not to cry.

"So you took off work to celebrate my job?" Kurt said in a small voice, hardly wanting to believe Blaine would do something like that.

"I did," Blaine said sheepishly, "I know I probably shouldn't have because we have rent to pay and groceries to buy so I can get you back to a healthy weight. But I wanted to take you on a date, Kurt, a real date where we can just be a couple."

"Blaine," Kurt ducked his head to hide his blush, "you really shouldn't have!"

"Yeah?" Blaine asked as he rolled halfway on top of Kurt, "I suppose I could just call them and say I changed my mind…"

"No," Kurt's hands flew around Blaine as he looked down at the man on his chest. Blaine's hands were folded and they cradled his chin. His long eyelashes were closed, but a content smirk played on his features. "I want to celebrate. But I don't want to celebrate me…I want to celebrate us, Blaine. I…I already feel more comfortable with you than I ever did with anyone else," Kurt wanted so badly to say the three words that would change everything, but he did not know if he could. He did not know if he was ready yet, they'd only been together so long.

But Kurt had a feeling that the emotion had been lying dormant from that first night he saw him at the bar.

"So what are we going to do?" Kurt asked gently as he ran a hand through Blaine's messy curls, "Stay in bed all day?" he raised an eyebrow at Blaine, though they had been together over a week, they hadn't had sex. Kurt was not only starting to go stir crazy, but he was also worried that Blaine would not want to have sex with him again. He was terrified he had done something wrong.

"I wish," Blaine pressed a kiss into Kurt's stomach, "but I figured we could go to on a little picnic and just talk."

Kurt knew that if Blaine had suggested that over a week ago, he would have laughed in his face and told him that was the stupidest idea he'd ever heard.

But Kurt liked simple. He liked sweet. He liked everything about the quaint romance that Blaine was slowly trying to put back into his life.

The small grin that formed on his face could not be helped, "Really? A picnic?"

"I even have a blanket," Blaine said, obviously very proud of himself.

"And a basket?"

"And a basket." Blaine rolled over and stood at the end of the bed, "Come on, it is a bit of a drive."

Kurt rolled off of the bed and stumbled toward the closet, "I'm getting old," he whimpered as his bones popped.

"Nah, that's just from living," Blaine shucked his t-shirt off and stood next to Kurt, trying to pick out his own wardrobe for the day.

Kurt could not help but sneak a peek at Blaine. His chest was toned and muscular, though Kurt could see that he too was wavering on the thin side, especially for his body.

Kurt knew they both had to start taking better care of themselves.

Kurt's eyes followed light dusting of hair that trailed down into the top of Blaine's shorts, a familiar churning formed in his stomach. "God I need a cigarette," he nearly moaned.

Blaine stopped rifling through his shirts and just looked at Kurt, "Oh…"

Kurt wanted to literally shove his foot into his mouth, "Oh god. Not that I'm going to!"

Blaine looked over at him with an odd look on his face. He stayed that way for a few moments before cupping Kurt's face again, "Kurt…I'm not going to judge you for it. I know it is going to be tough. Is there any way I can lessen the urge?"

Kurt was about to reply with a snarky comment but instead his stomach rumbled loudly, "I think my stomach needs food."

Blaine nodded, "I can make us toast, but we need to save room for the amazing feast I've made us."

Kurt couldn't help but just stare at his amazing boyfriend, "When did you find time to do all of this?"

"I have insomnia sometimes," Blaine admitted, "and you sleep very heavily."

Kurt just nodded, that was something he'd learned over the years. If people thought New York was loud, they had no idea until they heard Las Vegas in the peak tourist months. "I've adapted to it," he finally admitted.

Blaine threw a yellow v-neck on and motioned to his outfit, "Does this look okay?"

"It looks great," Kurt said quietly, using the chance to scan up and down Blaine's body a few times. "You know, I can think of something else to use my mouth for that might quell these urges…"

Blaine smirked but leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kurt's and increased the pressure until Kurt's mouth relented under his and opened, allowing Blaine tongue to meet his in the middle. Kurt couldn't help the small whimper that escaped his mouth as Blaine pushed him against the doorframe. Kurt's hands immediately tangled into his hair and pulled gently and Blaine pressed his thigh up against Kurt and pushed up gently.

Blaine groaned and Kurt pulled back, attempting to clear his head as Blaine attacked his neck, "Blaine…you said we have to go," Kurt gasped out, grinding himself down on Blaine's leg.

"I don't care," Blaine mumbled and kissed Kurt deeply, "It's been too fucking long.."

"Such a gentleman," Kurt said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Despite his words, Kurt shifted and pressed against Blaine with the same intensity, wanting to see Blaine fall apart, wanting to let himself fall apart knowing someone would catch him.

Kurt rocked his hips against Blaine's and groaned at the delicious friction when Blaine thrusted back. They moved together, their hips in counterpoint, finding a steady rhythm they could both agree on. Kurt could feel the tension in Blaine's body, trying desperately to hold himself up and hold Kurt up.

"Kurt, please," he said brokenly, his lips already swollen and red. Kurt wanted nothing more than to take Blaine's bottom lip into his mouth, so he did.

Kurt bit down as he thrusted harder, put a roll of his hips into it and Blaine gasped into his mouth and moaned his name against his lips. He arched his back and moved faster against Kurt and that felt even better, even more desperate, so Kurt let him, their bodies moving together frantically.

Blaine tore his mouth away from Kurt's own and threw his head back, breathed Kurt's name through those wet and swollen lips, and shuddered beneath him. Kurt thrusted against him a few more times before it became too much for him too and he collapsed against Blaine with his face pressed into his neck. He rested there comfortably, recovering his breath and thought processes until the sensation of his sticky pants managed to tear him out of his reverie.

"Fuck, we both have to change now," he whispered, still trying to catch his breath.

Blaine still looked too blissed out to realize what Kurt had said. He simply nodded numbly and staggered backwards, using the other side of the closet to hold himself up. His face went from blissed to angry in a few seconds.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, his heart racing.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Blaine slid down the wall until his arms were wrapped around his bent legs, "FUCK!"

Kurt fell next to Blaine, "What's wrong, Blaine?" His previous worries about Blaine not being sexually attracted to him anymore filled him quickly.

"That wasn't supposed to happen!" Blaine hiccupped, now trying not to cry.

"Why not?" Kurt was confused, "It felt good! It felt fucking amazing!"

"But we were supposed to be soft and gentle and tender…and nothing like this!" Blaine threw his head back and slammed it off of the wooden frame, "It was supposed to be special!"

Kurt leaned in and kissed the younger man's forehead, cheeks, chin, nose, and finally his lips, "Blaine…it was beautiful. I-I wanted it so badly. We can still have romantic and gentle! But we can still have…"

"Animalistic and frantic?" Blaine supplied.

"Exactly," Kurt said with a blush. "Now, let's get up, get changed again, and get to the park; I want some picnic food and I'm excited to spend the day with my gorgeous, sweet, intelligent, fantastic boyfriend."

Blaine blushed but allowed Kurt to pull him off of the ground and together they quickly showered and got ready for a second time. True to his word, Blaine made Kurt toast to go before they started their trip to Spring Mountain Ranch.

In the car, Kurt sat with his legs bent onto the dashboard, "You know, I've never seen this part of Las Vegas before."

"That's because this isn't the Las Vegas people think of," Blaine said as he turned onto a road that held only cornfields.

"How did you know this even existed?" Kurt wasn't sure whether he wanted to stare at Blaine or the scenery more.

"One time I got really lost on my way back to the apartment, and I ended up out here," Blaine grinned, "I have a really bad sense of direction."

The drive took nearly an hour and a half, but the men passed the time by pointing out strange things they saw, singing random songs that came onto the radio when they had service, and telling each other stories of vacations when they were children.

Eventually they arrived at the park, and Kurt couldn't help but groan, "A ranch? Please tell me we aren't riding any horses or baling hay."

"No," Blaine motioned to the picnic basket, "We are having a picnic, remember?"

Even though he had just eaten toast, Kurt's stomach still growled at the premise of home cooked food. Blaine had told him he wasn't a good cook, but Kurt found that to just be modesty on the man's part.

Blaine was a fantastic cook.

They finally parked on the lot, which was surprisingly empty. "It is about a twenty minute walk," Blaine warned as he gathered the materials.

"I can carry the blanket," Kurt offered and held out his arm.

Blaine seemed to debate before handing over the blanket and grabbing Kurt's other hand in his.

It still surprised Kurt how one little action could change his entire outlook on a day. Just simply holding Blaine's hand made him feel more alive than sleeping with any man ever had. The sun seemed to shine brighter around him, and he felt like he had a promise in him, he felt like he could still become someone.

"What are you thinking about?" Blaine stared intently at Kurt, wondering if Kurt was okay with the romance – he'd gone out on a limb.

"How nice this is," Kurt swung their hands for effect, "how I can't believe I thought I hated you at first."

"All that matters if where we are now," Blaine said with a wink. They were both trying to forget their pasts and move toward the future, but sometimes they still got bogged down with their own regrets.

Eventually they got the grassy knoll that Blaine deemed appropriate for their picnic. Kurt thought the last few football fields worth of walking would have been fine, but Blaine seemed to have everything picked out.

"This is the dead center of the park," Blaine explained, "so people coming from the other parking lots most likely won't want to walk that far."

Kurt nodded and grinned, "So what are we going to eat?"

Blaine could not even explain how happy it made him to see Kurt eating proper food again. "Roasted eggplant, tomato, and goat cheese on bread," he looked up for Kurt's reaction. Blaine had taken some liberties on hoping that Kurt would at least like the food.

"Oh my god," Kurt nearly tackled Blaine, "I have not eaten food that good since…I was actually cooking for myself!"

Blaine grinned, "I hoped you'd like it. I wasn't sure…"

Kurt shook his head, "No! It is perfect!"

"There are also melon slices and some wine…" Blaine trailed off, "I know we said we wouldn't drink…but it's wine."

Kurt nodded, "We are responsible adults," he bounced happily on the blanket. "Blaine, this really is perfect."

Blaine blushed and pulled the food out of the basket, amazing Kurt with each new item.

"Blaine, this is really awesome," Kurt lost the ability to even articulate how happy he was.

They ate slowly, each savoring the food, the warmth, the cleanliness of the air, and the company of each other. Blaine kept pressing melon and sandwich slices against Kurt's lips, and Kurt was almost positive he ate three times as much as Blaine.

They both laid and held each other as the clouds passed overhead. It was nice, in a way, not talking and just being together.

"Do you ever think about what it will be like when you leave Vegas?" Blaine asked Kurt quietly, squinting up at birds passing overhead.

Kurt pondered the question for a few minutes, trying to figure out exactly how to answer Blaine. "If we are being honest," Kurt stared, pressing his fingers into Blaine's side, "I didn't think I was going to get out until just a few days ago."

"Where would you want to go?" Blaine asked, not quite sure if he even knew his own answer to the question.

"With you," Kurt answered honestly. Sure, the old Kurt would have wanted to go make his own dreams come true, but his dream was to be happy, whatever the meant. If it meant he would be a milkman in Idaho, it would be worth it.

Blaine sighed, "I think I'd like to move to New York…if that would be okay with you."

Tears sprang to Kurt's eyes because he knew part of the reason Blaine chose there was because he knew Kurt left a bit of his heart in New York.

The bit that dreamed of being a star, of owning a clothing line, of constantly being surrounded by the noise of tourists, taxis, and Broadway musicals.

Not tourists, taxis, and desperation.

"Promise me we will get out of here," Blaine said as he rolled to face Kurt, "Promise me that one day you and I will leave here and never come back."

"Soon," Kurt said softly, "Blaine…I want a life with you…but I don't think we can start it here. I know people do, but those people aren't us."

Blaine nodded, "Within a year?"

Kurt sucked in a deep breath. That would be so difficult, neither of them had a lot of money and they both knew it. Blaine had to return Mike's car soon, and that would leave them both at the mercy of friends and walking.

Kurt wanted to focus on the happy moments, so he pointed to the guitar that Blaine had lugged in their walk, "What is that for?"

Blaine sat up, "Oh, I wrote you a song. I was going to sing it for you, but it seems silly now."

"No!" Kurt sat up, "I always wanted someone to sing to me. When I was in glee club in high school everyone always got serenaded. I never did." His voice was weak by the end.

Blaine grabbed the guitar, "It isn't finished, and it isn't…"

"Shut up and sing," Kurt batted his eyelashes a few times and Blaine readily agreed.

"Stop me at anytime," Blaine said as he began to play.

_If we move in together  
>Will I still be a slob<br>Will things get ordinary  
>Will I piss you off<br>'cause I don't cook  
>Throw my clothes on the floor<br>And I mix the darks and whites_

Kurt wrinkled his nose but laughed and motioned for Blaine to continue.

_Oh baby your kisses are pure  
>And the sex lasts for hours<br>You want me the less I shower  
>I'm a sight for sore eyes<br>In your old tighty whities  
>But you love me anyway<br>I thank god for seeing the light  
>And not going out with some lawyer type<br>'cause you're a poet  
>A renaissance man<br>A little boy with  
>Really strong hands<em>

Kurt felt himself relax and just stared at Blaine in wonder.

_So many things going through my mind  
>Sometimes it gets scary<br>But when you're on my side  
>The world may be chaotic<br>The skies may explode  
>But we'll be okay<br>Baby-this much I know  
>And the minuet between the heart and<br>The breath  
>Is my lullaby<br>And the minuet between the heart and  
>The breath<br>Rocks me every time  
>And the minuet between the heart and<br>The breath  
>Saves my life<br>As I lay upon your chest  
>I'm satisfied.<em>

Blaine finished strumming and stared at Kurt, "Like I said...it isn't finished, but…"

Kurt leapt over Blaine and hugged him, "Thank you…thank you."

Blaine leaned up and kissed Kurt soundly, the earlier passion easily reigniting.

"Can we please go home?" Kurt whispered huskily into Blaine's ear, "We can be gentle and tender there."

Blaine nearly pulled Kurt's arm out of its socket as he hastily packed up their lunch and sprinted across the grass.

Kurt laughed and tried to keep up with him, which was easily done by his legs, though his lungs ached after a bit.

The car ride home was nearly silent as Blaine pushed the older car as fast as it would go.

When they arrived at their apartment, they ran up the stairs, pausing every few seconds to kiss or grab or just look at the other.

Kurt dragged Blaine to the bedroom and pinned him against the wall, kissing him fiercely. When Blaine's words from earlier came back to him, he slowed down and tried to be more tender.

Blaine kissed him back just as fiercely and rubbed against Kurt.

Soon their shirts were off and they were kissing again.

Kurt pulled back just enough to slip a hand between them and palm Blaine's erection. It was Blaine's turn to whimper into the kiss and the hand that was on Kurt's ass tightened, giving a little squeeze. Kurt smirked a little before letting his mouth wander down Blaine's neck to his collarbone and across his chest, placing soft sucking kisses along the way, moving his hand off Blaine's cock to work at Blaine's belt buckle. Blaine groaned at the loss of contact, but Kurt just continued to work, pulling back to concentrate on the task.

Kurt's hands shook as he fumbled with the belt buckle. There should be absolutely no reason for him to be so nervous, but he was.

He let out a shaky, frustrated breath when he could not calm his hands enough to undo the belt buckle. Blaine's hands came up to try to help him and Kurt was surprised, but somewhat calmed, by the fact that Blaine's hands were shaking as much as his.

They lazily kissed some more as Kurt awkwardly reached back to remove his own shoes and socks breaking the kiss to gently set them on the floor beside the bed. He noticed when he did that Blaine had also removed his shoes, kicking them off with his feet and letting them fall where they may.

Blaine pulled back before harshly pulling Kurt back to him, his hands roaming wherever they fell.

Kurt let out a grunt of surprise but eagerly returned the kiss. He wrapped his hands around Blaine's waist, letting them wander down until he was palming his ass, earning a guttural moan from Blaine as his mouth wandered across Kurt's jaw to pay special attention to that spot just below his ear.

Kurt brought his hands to the waistband of Blaine's pants and gave a tug, trying to tell him without words that they needed to go.

Blaine gave a nervous chuckle and sat up enough so that they could undo the fly of his pants. As soon as the button was undone, Kurt shoved the pants off Blaine's waist. Blaine flung the clothes across the room and was ready to pounce on Kurt once more.

Kurt stopped him with a hand on his chest though, to give himself a chance to look and savor. Because while he was not completely naked yet, the sight of Blaine, with his curls mussed and his lips bruised and swollen from the kissing and in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs left Kurt breathless.

"Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?" he breathed before tugging on Blaine's arm to bring him towards him once again.

Blaine chuckled lightly as he placed a soft kiss against Kurt's lips. "No."

"Hmm, "Kurt hummed kissing him again. "Well it is true. You really are."

Well the same thing could be said about you, baby." Blaine's fingers fumbled against the fabric and Blaine swore under his breath.

"Trust me, I'm seriously regretting the outfit choice right now," Kurt answered, sitting up slightly in order to see to help Blaine with the snaps.

Blaine just smiled somewhat evilly as he bent over, placing a few kisses on Kurt's stomach before kissing Kurt's erection through the cloth as he continued to pull the pants down past Kurt's knees and finally off, letting them fall forgotten to the edge of the bed as he turned his full attention to Kurt's erection straining against his underwear.

Kurt's hands flew to Blaine's hair, tangling in them as Blaine mouthed his dick through the cloth, letting out a little whine as he did so, his back arching slightly. Blaine just continued his onslaught on Kurt's erection, slowly working it out of Kurt's underwear and taking it in his mouth, alternately licking and sucking as he held a gentle but firm grip on Kurt's hips.

Kurt's hands fell to the bed, gripping the sides, trying to force his hips to stay still, in order not to hurt Blaine. He propped himself up onto his elbows, so he could watch as Blaine worked. Their eyes met after a few moments, and Kurt ran a hand lovingly through Blaine's curls, before flopping back down onto the bed to try to gain some composure.

"Blaine..." Kurt moaned. Blaine hummed around him in answer, which caused Kurt's hips to buck up involuntarily. Thankfully for Blaine he had a fairly strong grip on Kurt's hips to keep him from thrusting into his mouth too deeply. Blaine just continued his onslaught on Kurt's cock.

"Condoms?"

Blaine smiled before kissing Kurt gently and getting off the bed, taking Kurt's forgotten pants with him, folding them, and laying them down on the chair next to the other bed.

"Did you want to be, or did you want me to..." He trailed off.

"I want to be the bottom," Kurt said certainly.

"Yeah, of course! Of course it's alright, Kurt." Blaine reassured. "I'm good either way, I just...I want this to be so good for you, baby."

Kurt smiled and snaked a hand around Blaine's neck and pulled him down next to him. "You are the most amazing man I've ever met." He smiled gently at him before he pulled him in for another kiss. It started slow and gentle, but it quickly deepened and got more frantic as their hands roamed across the others body. They turned onto their sides, clutching at each other, their legs tangling, one of Kurt's legs thrown over Blaine's hip.

Blaine dropped his head to the crook of Kurt's neck and sucked gently at the skin there. Kurt's breathing quickened as Blaine worked, and he dropped his leg from Blaine's waist in favor of pushing his hands underneath Blaine's boxer briefs and gripping his ass.

Blaine groaned and rolled them over so that Kurt was on his back. He placed a few kisses on his lips before he reached back and placed his hands over Kurt's, guiding them till they were at his sides and pulling the offending piece of fabric away. As soon as Blaine's underwear was off, he was grabbing at Kurt's.

As soon as they were both naked, the boys paused, Blaine hovering over Kurt, the hand that wasn't supporting his weight gently grazing down across Kurt's arm as his eyes raked over his body, taking him all in. Kurt turned his head away, blushing slightly, embarrassed under the scrutiny of Blaine's roaming eyes.

"Hey," Blaine said and tugged at Kurt's chin with his free hand, forcing Kurt to look at him. "You're stunning."

"So are you, Blaine," Kurt returned as he reached up a trembling hand to Blaine's neck and pulled him down flush against him, pressing their lips against together. Kurt's breath hitched and came out in shaky waves as the sensation of their naked bodies pressed together washed over him.

They laid there on the bed for awhile, just holding each other, their hands stroking the others back or arms softly, allowing them time to calm down a little. Blaine sat up, placed a quick kiss to Kurt's lips before reaching over to grab the bottle of lube on the counter, pouring out a generous amount onto his fingers, and warming the lube up a little before he leaned back over Kurt, gently spreading his legs and poising his hand over Kurt's entrance.

"You ready, baby?" he asked, his free hand rubbing soft comforting circles over one of Kurt's knee's and down his thigh.

"Yes."

Kurt was surprised at how composed his voice was when the rest of him felt like it was going to fall apart it was shaking so badly, but then he supposed that it was a good thing he could respond so steadily. He knew he had no reason to be nervous. They'd done this before.

But it just felt different.

Blaine was gentle though and eventually the slow pumping of his finger started to feel good. Blaine slowly worked a second finger in and then a third, stretching him little by little, rotating his fingers in gentle circles as he worked. His fingers brushed against his prostate and Kurt sucked in a breath at the pleasure he felt.

Blaine smiled at that, and crooked his fingers against it again. Kurt's breath became less and less steady as the pleasure built inside of him, getting stronger with every brush of Blaine's fingertips. It felt great, amazing even, but it was not enough.

"Blaine!" Kurt cried, his hands clenching the comforter beneath him. "Now! I need you in me now."

Blaine nodded and pulled his fingers out of Kurt, reaching for a condom and the lube. Kurt whimpered at the loss.

Kurt spread his legs wider as Blaine positioned himself over Kurt, holding there for a minute, breathing deeply. He placed a kiss on the inside of Kurt's thigh before slowly pushing in. Kurt's eyes snapped shut at the feeling of Blaine inside him, and his grip on the comforter tightened.

"Fuck..." Blaine breathed and Kurt could tell by the trembling in his voice with that one word that he was trying desperately not to lose control. Kurt exhaled a shaky breath and tried to relax.

"Kurt, baby, you okay?" Blaine asked, holding precariously still above him.

"Yeah, I'm..." Kurt took a deep breath. "I'm okay."

"Kurt, are you sure? You're...you're crying, baby."

It was not until then that Kurt was aware of the tears that were leaking from his still tightly shut eyes, but it made sense in a weird way, that he would be crying. He was so overtaken by the onslaught of emotions rushing through him at finally having Blaine in this way that the only way he could deal with the myriad feelings he had was to release it through his tears.

"It's fine, Blaine, really. I'm just...overwhelmed. I just..." Kurt reassured. "I just…it's been so long."

Kurt felt Blaine slide slowly in the rest of the way, and was surprised when he felt the angle change, Blaine suddenly hovering over his chest, his lips gently kissing away the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. It was such a sweet, simple gesture, but that one move on Blaine's part calmed all his nerves and centered all his focus on one thing: Blaine. He had never felt, more treasured than he did in that moment and he knew beyond any doubt in that one moment that Blaine would always take care of him and never hurt him in a way. Kurt slowly opened his eyes, locking them on the boy, no, man, this beautiful, wonderful man hovering over him.

"I love you," Blaine whispered,

"I love you too," he breathed back, fully believing his words, and then Blaine started to move.

Kurt tried to keep his focus on Blaine, struggling not to feel overwhelmed again, as they rocked together slowly, gradually picking up speed.

Blaine's eyes locked onto Kurt's as he rocked, reaching in between them to stroke Kurt's cock. Keeping Blaine's gaze, Kurt released his grip on the comforter and joined Blaine's hand in pumping his cock, slowly taking over so Blaine could concentrate on his thrusting.

Their breathing became ragged and heavy, Blaine's movements more and more erratic as he thrust. Sensing Blaine's desperation, and needing his own release, Kurt sped up his movements on his cock, pumping furiously until with a cry he was coming across his stomach and Blaine's chest, his body clenching around Blaine's cock as his orgasm washed over him.

That was all it took for Blaine to come with one last hard thrust into Kurt, his body trembling as he rode his orgasm out. Blaine collapsed on top of him, and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, clinging to him, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever.

"I love you," Blaine whispered again, "I love you, Kurt Hummel."

Kurt snuggled into Blaine's neck, "I love you too, Blaine Anderson."

They held each other for a while longer, both of them praying for the day that they could do be together like this in another city.

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	12. Cigarettes

**Hey guys! Sorry this is late! It's a little fillery, but the story is almost over! :(**

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

Kurt glanced at the clock and realized it was only 2:30 in the morning. He rolled over and saw Blaine curled up next to him, cradling a pillow in his arms and snoring lightly. Kurt suppressed a giggle as with every breath, a single haphazard curl went into the air and fell back down.

Kurt gently reached over, brushed the curl out of Blaine's face, and watched his eyelids flutter a few times before stopping.

"I love you," Kurt whispered, knowing the sleeping man could not hear him, but knowing he just had to say it. "I love you so much. Thank you for saving me," Kurt traced a few errant freckles, drawing a path down Blaine's nose and to one side.

He could not believe that the amazing man was his. Blaine was everything the old Kurt would have wanted. He was gentle and romantic, but still manly and strong. He was not too beefy, but not too skinny either.

He let his hands trace down a vein in Blaine's arm and then down his chest, watching the stomach muscles flutter and the hairs stand up.

Kurt stopped right before Blaine's belly button, not wanting to push anything further though Blaine was on complete display.

In effort to save money (at least, that is what they told themselves) they had stopped sleeping in clothing because their room was warm, and pajamas just caused more laundry for them to do.

Blaine snuffled again, and Kurt was snapped out of his reverie.

Suddenly, the urge hit. Hard.

Kurt bit his lip and fidgeted with his fingers, trying to get his mind off of the craving. He had gone almost three days without a single cigarette, two days longer than his last attempt, but the urge always came at night.

He began to sweat and could only think about the pack of cigarettes he had hidden in his sock drawer. He willed himself to sleep or to at least wake up Blaine so he could distract him.

Blaine was his favorite form of distraction.

Kurt ran his hand more firmly up the side of Blaine's body and kissed Blaine's cheek a little harder than he normally would, "Blaine, wake up!"

Blaine shifted, but did not wake up.

"Blaine," Kurt whined, knowing he needed to wake Blaine up. "Please."

"Sleep," Blaine murmured, "Kurt sleep."

Sighing, Kurt pushed himself off of Blaine and fell flat on his back. He could count the ceiling tiles or attempt to name all of the state capitals.

Nevertheless, his mind kept going back to one thing.

Kurt had always told himself it would be easy to stop smoking because he really did not like to do it. Sure, it calmed him down and when he did not have money to eat, it stopped his cravings, but he still found it a habit hard to kick.

Blaine had suggested patches or gum, but Kurt hated the taste of the gum and was not happy with the grimy feeling the patch left on his skin.

Perhaps he should have quit before he started his moisturizing routine again.

After several failed attempts to count the ceiling tiles, Kurt sat up and looked at the offending drawer.

Blaine would never know, and it would just take the edge off. He would not have to worry about the smell being on his clothes because he could just slip a pair of Blaine's basketball shorts on and go out onto the balcony.

Kurt stood and gracefully crossed the room. The drawer squeaked when it opened and Kurt froze. Blaine's breathing remained deep and Kurt knew he was safe. He knew exactly where the cigarettes were hidden and he grabbed the small carton and threw on a pair of Blaine's shorts.

Silently thanking God that they had not closed their squeaky bedroom door; Kurt walked briskly through the small apartment, clicked the lock on the door to the balcony, and gingerly stepped out onto the crumbling patio.

Sue had told them that technically the balcony was not safe, but Kurt and Blaine both established it was just because it overlooked her yard, and she could always be found doing something interesting down there.

It looked like the day before she had been practicing crop circles. Kurt had asked her how her day was a few mornings ago, and he was regaled with a story about how the aliens were coming, and he would do well to learn their language.

He had quickly made up a story about not wanting his bathtub to fill over.

With shaking hands, Kurt brought the cigarette to his lips. He did not want to, but he knew his body did. Anyone who said quitting was simply mind over matter had no idea what he or she were talking about. His hands fumbled so much they could not make the lighter work.

"Fuck," Kurt whimpered and threw the lighter onto the table.

"You can do it, you know," Blaine's sleepy voice said as he opened the door.

"But you don't want me to!" Kurt fought.

Blaine nodded and stepped onto the balcony in his boxers. Kurt gave himself a second to appreciate his boyfriend as Blaine stretched some of the sleep out of his bones. "I don't, but if you have to sneak away in the middle of the night to do it, you might as well just tell me so I don't think you've been captured by the aliens."

Kurt smirked, "I want to quit," he added seconds later in a small voice.

"I know," Blaine looked thoughtful for a minute and then grabbed the carton from the table, pulled out a cigarette and lit it expertly. "Go on," he handed the carton to Kurt.

Kurt just stared at Blaine and watched as Blaine continued, a strange calm on his features. "Blaine…your voice!"

"It didn't hurt yours, did it?" Blaine smirked at Kurt with the cigarette dangling from his lips.

_Fuck_.

Kurt knew what Blaine was trying to do, but he did not factor one thing into his plan.

Blaine looked disturbingly hot.

Kurt leapt off his chair and pulled the cigarette from Blaine's lips, replacing it with his own before Blaine could complain. Blaine tasted like cigarettes and cinnamon from his toothpaste.

Kurt mentally filed away that he preferred with Blaine just tasted like cinnamon.

"Kurt," Blaine whined as Kurt stubbed the cigarette out and folded himself onto Blaine, the chair creaking below them.

"You. Are. So. Hot." Kurt breathed, rubbing his hands down Blaine's chest.

Kurt could almost feel the blush coursing through Blaine, but he moved his lips to Blaine's throat, sucking and biting.

"Kurt...we both have work tomorrow," Blaine complained while kneading at Kurt's ass.

"Don't care," Kurt remarked, "I want you. Now. So hot."

"We can't do this here," Blaine gently but firmly pushed Kurt up and nearly dragged him to the bedroom, work be damned.

Kurt pulled his arm from Blaine and stepped closer to him.

Blaine turned around, shocked.

Kurt lunged for Blaine, kissing him soundly and then pushing him back onto the bed and climbing on top of him.

"Kurt," Blaine's voice was already broken and his hips were already rutting up to connect with Kurt's, which met them with equal force.

Kurt smirked but continued his assault of Blaine's body, kissing his way down the trail of hair beneath Blaine's bellybutton and hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and pulling slowly.

"Kurt," Blaine was looking down at Kurt, his eyes completely dark and wide.

Kurt grinned and lowered his mouth over Blaine, humming lowly as he reached the base.

"Kurt…I'm not going to last if you do that," Blaine ran a hand through the side of Kurt's hair, "Please baby…"

Kurt quirked an eyebrow but moved up Blaine's chest, knowing that Blaine loved it when he could taste himself in Kurt's mouth, "Love you," Kurt whispered as his hand kept up the assault on Blaine, collecting the precome on his fingers. Somehow, Blaine managed to rid Kurt of any remaining clothes and continued assaulting Kurt's back.

Kurt sat back on his haunches and took his fingers and brought them to his mouth. Even though this method did not work as well, Kurt knew Blaine loved to watch.

Kurt circled his hole with a finger and dipped it inside. "You want to watch?"

Blaine nodded quickly, "Please baby…" his hands grasped onto Kurt's thighs tightly, his eyes never leaving Kurt's hand.

Kurt bared down on the finger, wanting to quicken the experience. He pressed another finger, hissing at the intrusion but working himself open, loving the sounds coming from Blaine.

"Kurt…" Blaine said lowly and reached over to the bedside table. He handed it to Kurt who just smiled and clumsily applied some to the fingers that were still working himself open.

Kurt leaned back to give Blaine a better view when the burning was gone, the shift caused him to groan and he quickly added another finger.

"Kurt…I can't…you're so hot," Blaine panted, his eyes dragging away from Kurt. Kurt finished prepping himself quickly. He moved up Blaine's body when he felt stretched enough, and even though Blaine was completely a mess, he still felt the love in the boys smile.

"Your turn," he whispered, pulling Blaine's arm away from his face with his other hand, and then he used his hand to slick Blaine up, watching the way the man's eyes squeezed shut whenever Kurt twisted his wrist a little.

Kurt loved the way he felt a little filthy, but in such a good way; wonderful because he can do this whenever he wanted to and he has this amazing boyfriend who also happened to be sexy as hell. Kurt still had not lost the butterflies who had been living in his stomach since the moment he saw Blaine.

He shifted back and held Blaine in position, and then it was right there, nudging at the entrance to his body, and his muscles tensed a bit, but he lowered himself down onto Blaine. He didn't realize he was making these little noises until Blaine's hands framed his face and he stared down into eyes that were shining with love and delight and pride all mixed in with overwhelmingly animalistic need, and that was pretty much all it took. Kurt sank down completely, agonizing inch by inch.

"You are so gorgeous," Blaine breathed when Kurt finally bottoms out, "so fucking perfect."

Kurt never thought he would be filled so completely; Blaine hard and thick inside him.

"Been thinking about you like this," Kurt said, but the end was caught on a moan as he lifted himself up and the cock inside him brushed against his sweet spot. The pleasure cut through the burn and he shut his eyes as his mouth fell open.

"Oh god," Blaine almost whimpered when Kurt experimentally clenched his muscles around Blaine, and then it dissolved into an incoherent babble of words Kurt could spend all day listening to for the rest of his life, and that was when the rest of the discomfort melted away and all he felt was full and loved and beyond turned on. He started to ride Blaine in earnest then, rising and falling as fast as his legs would allow him, teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard as Blaine continued to fall apart beneath him.

"Yes," Blaine hissed repeatedly, trying to help Kurt by putting his hands on Kurt's waist.

And then Blaine was surging upwards and they were clinging to each other, and Kurt was slammed with the intensity of his own desperation as Blaine rocked up into him, sparks going off in his head every time Blaine hit that spot inside of him. Kurt bent and pressed his lips to Blaine's shoulder fiercely; trying to mute the sounds he could not keep in no matter how much he tried.

He felt Blaine's lips at his ear, and then heard the word, "perfect", and just like that Kurt lost himself, and he fell without abandon, secure in the comfort of the love and arms wrapped around him.

Blaine followed, barely seconds behind, lips seeking out Kurt's, and then it was just silence: just the two of them, breathing hard.

"Fuck," Blaine eventually said again, "Kurt…that was…"

"Yeah," Kurt ducked his head, embarrassed.

"No," Blaine pushed Kurt's head up with his fingers, "don't be embarrassed Kurt. There is no need."

Kurt still was not used to actually wanting to have sex with someone. All he had done for the past two years had been emotionless sex that he really was not engrossed in, that he never really felt. The thoughts that flittered throughout Kurt's head at random times of the day surprised him.

He wanted someone who wanted him.

"Baby," Blaine said softly, wiping the lone tear that trailed down Kurt's face, "are you okay? Did it hurt? You should have…"

"No!" Kurt shook his head, "I just…I love you so much."

Blaine kissed Kurt's forehead, "I love you too. Come on, let's go to sleep."

Kurt moved and realized that he would probably hurt in the morning, but now he just wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend.

"Blaine?" Kurt said, almost near sleep.

"Hm?"

"Please never smoke again," Kurt kissed at Blaine's shoulder, "I like to taste you."

Blaine just wrapped an arm around Kurt and nuzzled down, pressing a kiss to his hair.

"I hate my life," Kurt whined when he walked to the bar the next day. It was technically his first day on the job, even though he was back in the same place.

In addition, every bit of his body from his bellybutton down hurt.

Blaine laughed and pulled him closer, "Do you really?" he painted a look of hurt on his face complete with a pout and puppy eyes.

"No," Kurt admitted through clenched teeth, "but that was a bad idea. Shelby is going to have me dancing today and I'm going to pull something terrible."

"Then I can message it and make it all better," Blaine said with a laugh, "Win-win situation."

Kurt swatted at Blaine's thigh as they continued down the road. It still surprised Kurt how everyone thought this city was beautiful at night. He preferred it in the early afternoon. People had character then, instead of all being artificially happy.

People were stumbling out of hotels with their sunglasses and coffee. People were just arriving to the city, bags full of clothes and they still had the hope that maybe they could win big.

Kurt wanted to tell them that Vegas was a city one went to that allowed people to not only lose everything they held dear to them, including money, but also a place where they went to lose themselves in the process.

He thought of his first few days in Vegas, how he was still somewhat bright eyed and happy with the world. He dreamed he would fall in love, land a show somewhere, and be out of the city in less than a year.

Then he looked at Blaine, who still had those dreams he could hold onto. Blaine had not been in Vegas all that long, he still was not jaded by the lifestyles of the "beautiful" people who lied, cheated, and stole to get what they wanted and what their bosses wanted.

But now Kurt saw it too. He saw the world with a different sheen. He saw the hope and the promise of the new day. He had his job back, he had someone who loved and cared about him, and he had a place to live that did not have a constant rotation of college students and drug addicts.

"Do you think you'll miss this when we're gone?" he asked Blaine lightly, if only to remind him that they were going to leave together.

"No," Blaine said simply.

"Why?" Kurt pressed.

"This place was never really home for me. I like to think that everything serves a purpose in life, and I think it did, but I don't think there is anything left for me here." Blaine turned the last corner to his club, deliberately slowing down his pace so they could extend their time together.

Kurt felt the sting of Blaine's comment, but didn't let himself feel hurt. "You don't feel at home here?"

Blaine stopped and turned in front of Kurt, putting both of his hands on Kurt's face, "Kurt Hummel, I love you. Don't you dare for a second think that I don't feel like I'm at home with you. I love you, I just never thought of this place as a home."

Kurt nodded slowly, remembering that Blaine had only been here for a few months. "I didn't think that."

"You did," Blaine relented, "and I know that because I love you and I think I know you, Kurt."

"You're so young," Kurt said offhandedly.

"I am," Blaine admitted, "but I still know how much I love you. I…Kurt, I don't know what someone like you is doing with someone like me."

Kurt reminded himself again how young Blaine was, how naïve about the ways of the world. He wondered if they stayed together for the rest of their lives, if Blaine would ever lose that quality.

He hoped he would not.

"Please don't pull away," Blaine said in fear.

"I wasn't going to," Kurt said, "Blaine…being with you is changing me. Even two weeks ago I would have gotten mad and ran away. But now, I just want to hug you and leave today."

Blaine's hand came up and cupped Kurt's face again, "Soon, Kurt, I promise."

Kurt nodded, "Now let's go, we can't both be late for work if we are going to save up for an apartment somewhere else."

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><p><strong>Reviews? I'll try to be better!<strong>


	13. Watching

**Hey guys! Sorry this took forever! I've had the week from hell, so that's why this took so long! It's almost over. :(**

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

A few days later, Blaine watched Kurt walk into the bar and took off running in the other direction. He hated lying to Kurt, but some things needed to be done.

Kurt did not have to know that he started work an hour later today. Kurt did not know that Blaine was using the precious little bit of money he had saved up to go get Kurt his watch back, because that was going to be a surprise.

Blaine had it all figured out in his mind – roses, a nice dinner, music, dancing, and then Blaine would give Kurt the watch. Kurt would say he loved him over and over again all while Blaine blushed and tried to reassure him it was nothing.

There was just one thing that could fall through – Kurt had sold the watch for the money to pay half of the rent, which he insisted on doing.

Blaine knew the price on the watch would be so much more than Kurt sold it for, but Blaine would never forget the tearstained look on Kurt's face when Kurt returned with the money. His eyes were red, his pale skin was splotchy, and every limb on his body shaking. Blaine knew Kurt did not sleep much that night, because Blaine was there awake, not touching him, but listening to the small whimpers and the sniffles that would probably haunt him for the next few years of his life.

Blaine tried to remember his steps to the pawnshop. In all honesty, the day he saw Kurt there had been his first time. He had to use the directions on his phone to even get there, and even then it took him twice as long.

Blaine had never been good with directions.

It took him nearly twenty-five minutes, but he found the shop and was happy to see it pretty much empty. He knew Ray would not mind if he was late. The entire Motta family had been, for the most part, leaving him alone in his "new" job.

As soon as Blaine stepped foot into the pawnshop, that all changed.

"Sebastian, hello," Blaine said calmly, already suspecting what the man was doing at the shop this early, "What are you doing here as soon as it opens?"

"I'm looking for a timepiece," Sebastian said dutifully, though Blaine could see the muscles in his jaw working, "something personal and sentimental."

"Sebastian, don't," Blaine also started looking frantically. He prayed that he would find and claim the watch before Sebastian could get his slimy hands on it. "Please."

Sebastian rounded on Blaine, "And why not? You've never taken something that doesn't belong to you, Anderson?"

Blaine just stared, "I highly doubt Kurt ever belonged to you."

'

"He was starting to see things my way," Sebastian grinned, "Angelo, I'd like to get that watch in case 34. I'll pay the full asking price." Sebastian's grin made Blaine want to throw up. He hated the things people with money could do, and Sebastian was no exception.

"So what? Buying him a watch that I was going to buy is just going to win him back?" Blaine gave a hollow laugh, "Kurt wouldn't do that."

"Really?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow, "You think he is just some golden boy with the purest of intentions? Tell me, Anderson, how many things has Kurt paid for since you two have been together? How much has he shared? Probably a lot of less than what you have. You really trust him?"

Blaine didn't falter, he knew the kinds of games Sebastian played, "I do."

Sebastian seemed taken aback for a moment, visibly swallowing and steadying himself. "Fine, Angelo, put the watch on the counter."

The man agreed, a steely look in his eyes.

"How much is asking price?" Sebastian didn't take his eyes off of Blaine.

"$850," the man said, polishing the face of the watch.

Blaine only had $1,000 in his bank account, but he had another $700 on him.

It was all the money he had to his name.

"$900." Sebastian said.

"I'm not bidding for my boyfriend's love," Blaine wasn't going to let Sebastian win this one, even if he had to lose some dignity.

"Scared, Anderson? Are you really going to let me get it for that little? My my, he really does mean nothing to you."

Blaine sighed heavily and closed his eyes, collecting his temper, "$950." He would let him win the battle, but Blaine would win the war.

"$1050," Sebastian leaned lazily against the case, rolling his eyes.

"$1100" Blaine played with his bottom lip. He did not know how high Sebastian was willing to go. Blaine would give the world for Kurt if he could.

"$1200."

Blaine knew the game Sebastian was playing, he wanted Blaine to chicken out. "$1250."

"$1350, Blaine, isn't this ridiculous? I could just pull out now and leave you penniless and alone. Because when you come back to that apartment with no money, he won't want you anymore. So either you get the watch and I get Kurt, or I get both. I'm not going to be greedy," Sebastian held his hands up and shrugged, "Your choice."

Blaine thought for a moment and then shook his head, "$1400."

"Oh, that's going to hurt the bank," Sebastian said with a laugh, "$1700."

Blaine started and just looked down at his feet.

"What? Blaine….you can't even hang with the big boys, can you?" Sebastian motioned to Angelo, "Wrap it up."

"Wait!" Blaine scraped his mind for anything he could think about. "$1700 plus my guitar that you were going to buy for $800."

"Sir, this isn't a trading post," Angelo said with a frown. He glared at Sebastian, "Can you go higher than $1700? I can give it to whoever I want if you both ask the same thing."

Sebastian shot a cool look over at Blaine, "$3000."

"Fuck," Blaine whispered, his heart tightening. "Sebastian, you are going to give it to him at least, right?" That was all that mattered to Blaine really. He knew Kurt wanted that watch, that it meant something to him. Even if Blaine wasn't the one to do it, at least he would have it.

"Of course I am," Sebastian pocketed the watch and handed Angelo a stack of money. "I'm going to give it to him, and then he'll see that he wants a man, not a little boy."

"I'm more of a man than you, Sebastian, or at least that's what Kurt says every night," It was a low blow, and Blaine knew it. He hated flaunting his sex life in front of Sebastian, but the man knew how to get under his skin in a way that no one else did.

"Men, take this outside," Angelo said gruffly, glaring at both of them, "your business is done here."

Sebastian glared but walked out, the watch in his front pocket. As soon as they stepped outside he rounded on Blaine, "What were you trying to say in there?"

Blaine laughed, "Oh nothing. Just that I'm guessing you never knew just how loud Kurt can be when he is actually enjoying himself, considering he faked it every time he was with you."

"He couldn't have faked it, idiot," Sebastian said, "He's giving you a line."

Blaine paused because there was a chance that Sebastian was right. How did Kurt fake an attraction to Sebastian? But Blaine knew Kurt, and he knew that the man would never lie to him. "I don't know, Sebastian, but I know that the Kurt that is my boyfriend was not in any way, shape, or form attracted to you."

"You are a little boy," Sebastian sneered, "you can't even legally drink yet. You have no idea how to take care of someone like Kurt."

"That may be true but at least I don't throw his emotions around, use him, and convince him he is less than a human being," Blaine's mind was working as fast as his mouth was. Did Sebastian have a point?

"Blaine, Blaine, Blaine…" Sebastian gave a hollow laugh, "You don't understand, do you? Kurt is one of those people who needs someone to tell him exactly what he is. He doesn't need someone like you, someone who will put these lofty ideas into his head. Because you know what is going to happen?"

Blaine started walking, he didn't want Sebastian to cause him to be late for work, "What? What is going to happen, Sebastian, because you know so much about life."

"I know more than you," Sebastian was taking giant steps to keep up with Blaine. "Kurt is going to fall, Blaine. He's going to fall high from that cloud you just put him up on. He doesn't need someone who is going to make him believe that something is going to happen when it isn't. Kurt is going to be here forever or until he find a sixty-year-old man that needs a blowjob every few weeks in return for clothes, a house, and a sense of dignity."

Blaine just stopped and stared at Sebastian, "What exactly are you getting at?"

"Kurt has to know that is his future, Blaine. He knows that unless he finds someone young, dashing, and possessing a large fortune, he will be stuck with a wrinkly dick and back hair." Sebastian grinned, "You are young, too young. You could maybe pass for dashing. But, you don't have a large fortune, Blaine."

Blaine didn't even allow himself to feel insulted, "Sebastian, why are you still fighting this? You don't get Kurt, I do. You should have had confidence in him from the beginning. Then maybe you would be with him today. Maybe if you had treated him like a human being and not a charity case, he would be here."

Blaine took off walking again, walking much faster than even Sebastian could. Perhaps Blaine's age did let him have some advantages.

"Blaine, I'm going to win. You are going to get out of here. You should be flattered that I even think that." Sebastian grinned, "You will get out, but not with Kurt, because he'll be here with me."

"No," Blaine said simply, walking into the bar, "I won't let that happen, Sebastian. I won't leave until Kurt does."

Sebastian rolled his eyes but then put on his best happy face. "Hello, everyone! Sorry we're late; Blaine and I had a little catching up to do."

"Stop making it seem like we're friends," Blaine hissed.

"We used to be," Sebastian feigned a smile to everyone trying to listen in on their conversation.

"No, you used to try to sleep with me. Which is why I don't understand why you are so bent out of shape over Kurt," Blaine started cleaning the bar. The last thing he wanted to do was have Ray catch him not doing his job.

He now wanted to get out of Las Vegas even more than Kurt did.

Sebastian laughed, "You are a dime a dozen, Blaine. Kurt…Kurt is special. Kurt is the type of man that when he walks into a room on my arm, everyone will be jealous. Boys like you, people look for a second and then shrug and look away. I need someone like Kurt."

Blaine wanted to blow up; he wanted to punch Sebastian in the face. "Kurt is the type of man that makes everything in life better. When he walks into a room, the room visibly brightens because of the amazing man that Kurt is. He causes everyone to feel comfortable. He gives of his love freely, even if he hides it behind snide comments and wit. He is gentle, and loving, and everything a man needs to be. If you can't see that, then you don't deserve Kurt. Not like I thought you did in the first place," Blaine was breathing heavily by the time he finished his rant. It felt good to tell someone what he was thinking about Kurt.

Sebastian just stared at Blaine, "You really think he is that special?"

"I do."

Sebastian's cackles filled the club, "You are so young. You fell for the first man that told you he loved you. Maybe Kurt is a lot smarter than he let on."

"Sebastian, there is one advantage to me being young. I remember what bullies were like in high school. I remember how they said little things that were supposed to get under my skin until I let myself doubt eat me alive. But I won't let you do that, Sebastian. I will not let you win this one. I have dealt with bullies before. I've been bullied by my father, by my classmates, by the whole fucking world, but I'm not going to let you do it."

Sebastian looked shocked. He opened and closed his mouth before his voice took on a quiet, terrifying tone, "You can talk all you want, Anderson, but I have the watch. I have the one thing that will show Kurt who can do something for him."

Blaine scowled but said nothing. He knew that his Kurt, the Kurt he knew, the man that loved and cared about other people, wouldn't allow his affections to be bought by a man with money. The boy who Sebastian knew might have allowed it to happen. He wanted Sebastian to figure it out for himself, that sometimes money doesn't win and that love does.

Blaine just continued wiping down glasses while Sebastian walked toward the back room, a victorious strut in his walk that made him look like a duck that just fell onto a stick.

He took a deep breath and pushed on, he trusted Kurt.

When the night ended, Blaine nearly ran toward Shelby's club. He wanted to get Kurt and take him home, loving and holding him the entire way.

Because even though he trusted Kurt, the doubts started to creep into Blaine's mind.

What is Sebastian was right?

Was Blaine a bad choice for Kurt?

Could Kurt do better?

Kurt was leaning against the stone wall in the alleyway beside the club. He grinned and hugged Blaine tightly, "I missed you," he whispered into Blaine's ear, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Blaine smiled widely and kissed Kurt's temple, "I have a lot to tell you."

"Oh?" Kurt pulled back and studied Blaine's face, "Is something wrong?"

Blaine took Kurt's hand and pulled him toward the sidewalk. They had a fairly long walk in front of them, and he knew they had to get started if they wanted to get home at a decent time.

"I went to the pawn shop," Blaine admitted, "to get the watch."

"Blaine, I told you not to!" Kurt's voice caught in his throat, stuck somewhere between happy and actually upset with him.

"Good, because I didn't get it," Blaine said suddenly. He had planned on easing Kurt into the fact that his watch was currently in the possession of the vilest man in all of Las Vegas, but he just blurted it out instead.

"Oh," Kurt bit his lip but kept walking. Blaine didn't miss the way he ducked his head though, and didn't say anything more for a few blocks as Blaine tried to formulate the words so that Kurt wouldn't have his heart broken again.

"At least they sold it fast," Kurt eventually said, his voice small. "I hope someone nice got it."

"He wasn't nice," Blaine said quietly, "it was Sebastian."

Kurt stopped, "That asshole," he shook his head, "Oh my god, seriously?"

"We had…we had a bidding war for it," Blaine admitted shamefully. He didn't want Kurt to know that he wasn't man enough to win the battle against Sebastian. "He paid $3000 for it." Blaine tried to gauge Kurt's reaction, but the man's face flashed with so many different emotions he found it almost impossible.

"He's such a jerk!" Kurt stomped his foot and nearly shrieked, "I would have been okay with someone else having it. Anyone else, but him? What the heck does he want it for?"

"To win you back," Blaine said simply, tightening his hold on Kurt's hand.

"Well he doesn't have me, he can't have me, and he won't have me," Kurt said, all of his anger coming out, "I don't want that chipmunk-faced asshole. I want a real man who doesn't have to use money to get what he wants. I want a man who uses his personality, his intelligence, his own two hands to get what he needs. I want a man."

Blaine felt his stomach sink, because was Blaine really a man? He was young, only nineteen, and barely that. "Oh."

Kurt turned and stared at Blaine's crestfallen face, "What did he say to you, Blaine?"

"Excuse me?"

Kurt grabbed Blaine's face, "What did he say to you? You look like someone told you Christmas and New Years were cancelled for the next twenty years. I know that look, he said something. What did he say?"

"He just said…that you wanted someone older. Someone who was more of a-a man." Blaine bit his lip, getting ready for Kurt to say the words that would ruin him.

"Being a man has nothing to do with age," Kurt whispered, pressing a quick, chaste kiss into Blaine's lips. "Being a man has to do with you being everything to me. You standing up for me even when you feel like the smallest person in the world. You are the man, all the man, that I want."

Blaine couldn't help the huge smile that split across his face, "Are you sure? I mean, I understand if you think I'm too young or that I'm too inexperienced or that I'm naïve…"

"You are perfect," Kurt reassured him, pulling him toward the apartment. "You are everything I want."

Blaine blushed, "Kurt…thank you."

Kurt shrugged, "You shouldn't have to thank me for telling you the truth. You are truly an amazing person, Blaine, and it kills me that no one has said that to you before."

They walked together, Kurt making sure to say more to Blaine, trying to reinforce his love for him and make him feel like he was special.

Because to Kurt, he truly was everything.

They arrived back at the apartment and immediately both noticed the black shiny car that definitely did not belong to them, nor Sue.

"Let's get this over with," Kurt huffed and walked over to the car, rapping his knuckles on the glass.

"Kurt," Sebastian's face broke into a smile, "I see you know what happened. Blaine probably gave you the story so you would give him one before his juice box and night-night."

Kurt giggled, "I did hear," he pulled his hand from Blaine's and glared back at him.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow but continued smiling, "So you see things my way?"

"I'm not sure how I see them, Sebastian. I need some convincing."

Sebastian pointed to the car, "Let's go for a ride and I can tell you."

Kurt shook his head a little too quickly, "No, if I leave here with you tonight, I want to make sure it is the last time I have to see this place."

Blaine stood rooted on the sidewalk, completely confused.

Sebastian laughed in Blaine's direction, "Kurt this isn't even a competition. I can give you everything in this city that you want. Even though Blaine said we didn't, I know we had chemistry, Kurt. You and I are like….fireworks or something."

Blaine realized that Sebastian really might have had feelings for Kurt as some point.

Kurt nodded and grinned. He brought a hand up to Sebastian's face and stroked it, brushing the hair out of the way. "You really are something else, Sebastian."

Sebastian grinned and leaned in to kiss Kurt.

Blaine wanted to punch Sebastian, wanted to go inside and cry, and he wanted to collapse and die on the spot.

Blaine was about to look down when he saw it. Kurt flinched when Sebastian's lips hit is.

Suddenly, Blaine understood.

"Seriously?" Blaine said, a little rusty on his acting skills. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Sebastian pulled off and grinned, "I told you I would win."

Kurt leaned his head into Sebastian's neck and looked over at Blaine, "I'm sorry, Blaine. It's been fun, really. But…I need a man who can take care of me." Kurt made a face when he was sure Sebastian couldn't see.

Blaine held back a laugh and just sighed, "Fine. I'm going upstairs. You can come get your shit when I'm not here."

"Wait!" Sebastian said, "Don't you want to see me give him the watch?"

Blaine rolled his eyes, "Why would I want to see that?"

Sebastian pulled the watch out and quickly fastened it on Kurt's wrist before kissing his hand. "Maybe one day we can replace it with a real man's watch."

Kurt froze and Blaine watched in amusement as Kurt slapped Sebastian's face and ran toward the door, "Go Blaine!"

Blaine quickly slammed the door and they were locked inside, panting, and laughing. "I seriously felt my heart start to break," Blaine said with a laugh, "before I realized what was going on."

"You aren't as naturally gifted as a performer as I am, so I couldn't tell you. I knew he would be waiting." Kurt's eyes sparkled as he leaned in and kissed Blaine, pressing him firmly against the door. "You are the only person I want, Blaine."

Blaine grinned and kissed him back.

Outside, Sebastian pulled out his cell phone and grinned, this wasn't over.

* * *

><p><strong>Dear lord, Sebastian won't leave these boys alone.<strong>


	14. Tails

**1 more after this. Don't kill me!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

_If your heart wears thin I will hold you up  
>And I will hide you when it gets too much<br>I'll be right beside you  
>I am right be right beside you<em>

Kurt nestled against Blaine and just breathed. The night had taken a lot out of both of them, they had been silent after Sebastian left, both mentally decompressing from the night and preparing for what was to come.

They both knew Sebastian did not give up that easily – and that his retaliation would be worse than anything they had seen before.

Kurt still could not sleep because he knew Blaine was not sleeping. Something was bothering Blaine, and he had no idea what it was.

"Blaine," Kurt murmured, peering up at Blaine who made no show out of "waking up."

"Yes?" Blaine looked down his chest to see Kurt with his arms folded and head cradled on his stomach.

"What's wrong?" Kurt's eyes searched his, trying to figure it out. The dark, however, blocked out most of his chances of figuring it out and he simply had to wait until Blaine felt comfortable enough to share.

"Nothing," Blaine's voice was tight and high, a sure sign he was lying about something. He also did not quite meet Kurt's eye, which let the older man know it was about him.

"Blaine," Kurt stroked up and down Blaine's arm, "whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise I won't get mad."

"Do you think I am too young for you?" Blaine said the entire sentence in one breath, peering so intensely down at Kurt that even that dark could not mask it. "Do you think I'm too young to feel like this?"

Kurt thought for a moment as he peered up at Blaine.

Was Blaine too young?

Was Kurt taking away some of Blaine's life experience?

Did Kurt limit what Blaine could do?

What could Kurt give Blaine that no one else could?

"No," Blaine put both of his hands on Kurt's shoulders, "I know what that look is. I know that you are trying to blame something on yourself. This is me. Am I…too young, too inexperienced to be with you, Kurt?"

Kurt stared up at Blaine with clear eyes; they both could see more now that they had adjusted to the moonlight filtering in their dirty window. "Blaine…you are perfect for me."

Blaine bit his lip, "I just…I worry that in the future you will think I'm too young."

Kurt thought again. This time, he pictured himself at Blaine's age. He had been gallivanting around New York City, sleeping with probably a few too many men, and having the time of his life.

Looking back, Kurt thought those were the formative years to shape his character, his _true _character. Kurt had not been with anyone for the first year out of high school. He had made so many bad decisions.

Bad decisions with money.

Bad decisions in love.

Bad decisions that changed his entire future.

Kurt realized that Blaine would never get to fail incredibly like that. He would never feel the sting of his heart being ripped into shreds, he would never go hungry and have to eat on of can a food per day, and Blaine was still fresh and wide-eyed.

Blaine needed someone who could protect him from himself and from the world. But more, Blaine needed someone who would still love him and give him someone to come home to at the end of the day. Someone like Kurt never really had after his father died.

Kurt wanted to be that for Blaine; because even if Blaine walked out of his life, Kurt would always love and care about the man in his arms.

Moreover, a man Blaine was. From Kurt's perspective, Blaine was more of a man then most people he had ever met. Blaine took responsibility for himself, Blaine worked hard, and Blaine knew the sacrifices that needed to happen.

"No," Kurt sat up, his legs folded beneath him. "NO," he said it louder this time, fighting internally.

"No?" Blaine sat up, not quite sure whether he should stop Kurt's internal dialogue or let him continue.

"No," Kurt shook his head ferociously, "We aren't going to let Sebastian win this one. That is what he wanted. He wanted to plant that seed of doubt in your brain. He knew this would cause a huge fight between us. He knew, he's evil."

Blaine gave a hollow laugh, "Babe, I feel like we're going to have to get out of here before he stops. We need to leave." The conversation happened more and more often between them. Almost a day couldn't go by where they didn't promise each other that they would get out of their current situation.

It was slowly becoming the mantra that got them through each and every day.

"I have more money than you think," Blaine said sheepishly, "I will sell my guitar. I will sell everything I have. We can get bus tickets to Los Angeles or Houston or New York or Alaska. I don't care. We need to get out of here," he was standing.

Kurt couldn't help but laugh at the man standing in front of him, with busy hair sticking up everywhere and M&M boxers that were scrunched up on one thigh. He was using his hands way too much.

"We can do this!" Blaine looked around the room, "We could just sell it all! Start new. Pull ourselves up by our bootstraps like the pioneers did!"

Kurt bit his lip and tried to hide his smile. Realistically, he knew it was stupid. He knew that they shouldn't pick up and move even though the option was there.

"We could leave at the end of the month," Kurt said. He knew they should wait longer, but Las Vegas was going to tear them apart the longer they stayed together. "That way we at least live here throughout our rent agreement."

Blaine nodded, "Yeah…I can get some more money together by then. I'm still selling my guitar…and everything."

Kurt nodded, "I can sell some more of my clothes. I have some…some money saved up," he felt bad admitting it. "Only like a thousand dollars…"

Blaine stared at Kurt, still fully awake. "You have a thousand dollars?"

Kurt shrank back in fear, "I just…I know I should have given you some for the rent that first month. I'd been saving it for over a year in case I got thrown out of the motel. I didn't…I'd nearly forgotten about it until we talked about getting out of here. But Blaine…I just, I needed to keep some money in case you g-got sick of me and threw me out. Blaine…I couldn't let myself get thrown out on the streets with no money. I swear I can ask Santana to give me the jar where my money is saved."

Blaine moved forward slowly and cautiously, not trying to scare Kurt. He cupped the back of Kurt's neck, "Baby. I'm not mad, I know you are smart. I know you had to think about yourself just in case. I wish you didn't have to, I wish you knew that even if you went out and had sex with a thousand men I would still let you stay here while you got your feet back on the ground. I just..I wish you had used some of it to eat instead of nearly starving in that crappy hotel room."

Kurt shrugged, "I told you, I needed a backup plan." He peered up at Blaine through his lashes, "Are you really not mad at me?"

"Nope."

Kurt grinned, "Good. Can we just…go to sleep? I really don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm tired of everything being heavy."

Blaine grinned and pulled Kurt in for a kiss, immediately begging entrance into his mouth, "I'm not tired," he whispered huskily when he pulled away.

"M-me neither…" Kurt admits, already turning his head to give Blaine better access to his neck.

Blaine's dragged his teeth down Kurt's neck, causing Kurt to moan loudly.

He bucked forward and whined when Blaine's teeth caught at the juncture between neck and shoulder, the muscle between his lips as Blaine angles his head and let his teeth dig in, a growl escaping. Blaine only stopped when Kurt pulled the t-shirt over his head.

A hand immediately scratched down Kurt's chest, nails leaving light red marks.

Kurt watched him still, watches him snarl and switch to the other side of his neck, his hand drifting lower to where Kurt's hips were pressed backwards into the bed and he's pushed Kurt's underwear away and down, nails again at his thighs.

Then his hand was around Kurt's cock and was fisting it roughly, guiding Kurt to relax, still working obscenely at the tendons in Kurt's neck.

"Blaine," he called between gasps. "Blaine please…"

Blaine licked his way to Kurt's ear and then down, nipping lightly but being more gentle.

Blaine's boxers joined Kurt's on the floor. Blaine's hips snap and grind against Kurt's and they groaned louder than he expected.

"Please?" Blaine asked, looking at Kurt with wide eyes. He fumbled around in the side drawer before pulling Kurt in and kissing him softly. Leaning back, his eyes asked for permission again.

Kurt's nodded and Blaine's slid his hand down between them, holding his hips back so he could follow Kurt's spine with his middle finger, low to the cleft of Kurt's ass and then switched to his index finger, slick with lube and sliding easily around Kurt's hole once and then pressing in.

It was an easy slide and Kurt relaxed forward further, letting Blaine start working him open.

Kurt arched and moaned at the stretch inside him, and started working himself back and down, willing his body to shift and relax.

"Another?" Blaine has to ask.

Kurt shook his head, pressing back to pull Blaine's fingers as deep as he could get them. "Just fuck me."

Kurt watched Blaine's eyes sparkle and his head fell down to rest Kurt's once more.

"Blaine," Kurt whined out, ready and wanting and twisting his hips so that Blaine's fingers slid out.

Blaine lined himself up, stepping in close again and giving himself another stroke, spreading the hot, liquid oil over himself and then pushed Kurt's legs even further apart. He leaned forward and pressed Kurt face first down into the bed.

When he slid inside it's just the tip and it's tight and hot and Kurt's back is arching with it. Blaine just bit down on his tongue and kept sliding in, inch-by-inch, and slow as he dared, until he was sheathed. He waited, drawing the seconds out, fingers tracing nonsensical patterns down Kurt's back.

Suddenly, the anger with Sebastian boiled in him and without thinking, he was pulling back and then snapping his hips forward, hearing the slap of flesh on flesh and the gasp from Kurt before he felt the pleasure explode up his veins. He did it again and the rush of blood in his ears blocked everything else out except for the pain of Kurt's nails into his thigh. One more thrust and this time his hips will not pause, he kept moving, finding a deep rhythm that ached to his very bones and will not allow him to last long.

Again he fell forward, pressing his chest to Kurt's back and letting the friction there drag with heat. His hips snapped forward, burying his cock hot and tight every time and Kurt's whining low and almost undetectable with each thrust.

Blaine slowed, just a little, pulled his hips back and tries for shallower, less forceful movements. "You okay?" he mumbled out into the nape of Kurt's neck.

"Harder," he Kurt whispered, his ass shoved back to emphasize the point. "Fuck me harder." He turned his head to look over his shoulder, catching Blaine's eyes as he begged.

Blaine's hands were at Kurt's hips, his own hips stuttering back and he was so hard and so close, but it didn't matter. His hips rolled once, experimentally, cock sliding deep again and Kurt whimpered and mumbled out Blaine's name.

"Fuck, Kurt," was the only warning Blaine gave and then he fucked into him properly and without hesitation. Building the rhythm again, snapping his hips forward as hard as he can, and then dragging them back at half speed until just the tip of him is inside, Blaine loved hearing Kurt. Kurt's whimpers went higher, enough to echo, enough to make Blaine go even faster.

He still had his hands on Kurt's hips, one of Kurt's on his thigh, digging in, egging him on, Blaine's hips stuttered for a second, and he was close to breaking. He found his mouth on Kurt's shoulder again, as his hips fucked into him obscenely.

"God, you're perfect," he found himself whining, the slap of his balls where they hit up against Kurt's, were loud in his ears. "Perfect," he mumbled out again and then, "I love you." The unraveling in his stomach did not distract him from his main goal.

He came buried deep, pulling Kurt back onto him as he swallowed and yelled. Blaine's arms twined and pulled Kurt flush so his mouth could find his and kiss him as dirty and wet as they could. It was slightly awkward and Kurt knew his neck would hurt the next day, but it was enough to make him whimper as Blaine still slammed into him.

Whimpering through his release as his hips rocked and he spilled, Kurt sucked on his tongue and the electricity in his blood made him feel like he was on fire. Blaine stayed tight and close until he couldn't and he slipped out of Kurt's ass with a groan and stumbled back with a last, "Fucking love you.

Kurt was still hard but he didn't care, he was shaking with the force of what just happened and as he leaned back and looked down at himself.

He was completely marked up.

There were bruises down his neck and the imprint of fingers at his waist, scratches down his stomach and across his hips.

Blaine looked over him, eyes wide as he took in Kurt, "Don't move."

Blaine crawled towards Kurt and Kurt couldn't keep his eyes open to see him anymore but doesn't have to because Blaine's head was bobbing up beside Kurt's hip as he settled back on his haunches and smirked and then kissed lightly over a purple fingertip mark on Kurt's side.

"Mine," Blaine whispered slowly, his voice completely different as it is filled with wonder and amazement.

"Blaine," Kurt mumbled, settling down further across the bedone more, arching his back and letting legs fall apart. Blaine's hand was teasing and taunting him.

He began stroking with one hand, tighter and faster, almost as fast as he'd fucked into him minutes before. His other hand smoothed up the back of a thigh, a caress that turned to splayed fingers across one side of Kurt's ass and Blaine spread him open so he could see.

Kurt's hips were pushing into the fist of Blaine's hand and the rocking translates back to his ass, shifting with Kurt's hips as Blaine stared at the still-stretched hole.

Blaine's hand twisted and he held his breath as Kurt whined and buckd into his hand and his ass tightened and then relaxed. He's close.

His mouth pressed to the smooth skin of Kurt's thigh, the soft hair teasing his nose, Blaine kissed wet and hot and then slid up, nuzzling into the crease between thigh and ass and then kissing a trail of barely there kisses, pressed up the perfectly round curve. He could smell the sex and the sweat stronger than ever, he let his teeth dig into the skin for just a second, a swipe of his tongue, and he listened to Kurt call his name.

"So close."

So Blaine just licked into him hard and without finesse, his tongue stroking easily inside and lapping at the wetness, sucking at the skin around his hole and licking and then fucking back into him. He tried to match the stroke of his hand with the thrust of his tongue but not even nearly managing as Kurt writhed and twisted and shouted out about him, his name and "Jesus fucking Christ," as his body tensed and Blaine refused to stop. He tasted the remnants of his own come, Kurt's cock pulsed under his hand, and his come spilled across the bed, the floor, and Blaine's fingers.

"Jesus, fuck," Kurt said when he realized he couldn't feel his toes. He flopped down on the bed, breathing heavily. "Oh my god," he repeated.

Blaine landed next to him, "Do you hurt?"

"No," Kurt shook his head, a dazed look on his face, "I need to get you jealous more often. That is always the best."

Blaine laughed and peppered the small bruises with kisses, "Are you mad?"

"No, I might get overheated trying to cover some of these up," Kurt looked down and sighed, "but they were worth it."

Blaine snuggled closer, careful not to press too hard into any of the bruises. "Can we sleep?"

"We need to shower."

Blaine sighed, "Shower later?"

"Well we need to put clean sheets on. We should shower so we don't have to launder other sheets as well."

Begrudgingly, Blaine groaned, "Why are you always so practical?"

"Because I need to be. Someone has to keep order here."

"Kurt! What are you doing?" Blaine yelled the next morning as he tossed a pillow over his head, "you know Sue won't let us hang anything."

"It's not me," Kurt mumbled. "I hurt too much to get up, you check what it is."

Blaine was already sitting up, "Kurt…someone is trying to break into Sue's.."

"Let them," he sighed again, "let them get her. We'll stay here."

"You'll never take me alive!" Sue's cackle sounded throughout the thin walls.

Kurt sat up, groaning with pain, "Blaine…."

"Kurt…" Blaine was looking out the window. The entire house was surrounded by cop cars, "I think something is going on…"

Kurt looked out the window, "Fuck," he whispered. "What is this?"

They both hurried to put on proper clothes before running out of the apartment.

"Woah!" the cop standing closest to the door held his hands out, "put your hands up!"

Both men immediately raised their hands, "Blaine…" Kurt whimpered, stepping in front of the younger man.

"State your names!" the cop called out.

"Blaine Anderson."

"Kurt Hummel."

The cop looked at them, "You may lower your hands."

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand immediately. "What is going on?"

The cop looked over both of them, "Why were you in that house?"

"We live in the apartment above her floor," Kurt said calmly, arms circling a visibly shaken Blaine. "What's going on?"

The cop swore, "Guys, here are two others."

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other, "We're going to get arrested, aren't we?" Blaine whimpered.

"No," the cop said, "unless you did something…" the cop's smile was genuine.

"No." Kurt said sharply, squeezing Blaine's hand to silence him.

"This woman here has been running apartments and screwing people out of money all over Vegas. None of her apartments are up to codes and we got an anonymous tip this morning telling us where she lived. We've been looking for her."

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other, they both knew it was probably illegal where they were living based on the random mold spots and the falling walls – but it was cheap.

"What does that mean for us?" Blaine asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

"Unfortunately we have to condemn this building. There is black mold throughout much of the bottom floor, and structural damage where she was practicing karate. You boys can get your stuff, but I'd recommend you try to stay with friends."

Blaine and Kurt stared at each other, "What? Can't we stay here for a few more days?"

"I'm sorry," the cop frowned, "if you have renters insurance you can get a hotel?"

Blaine nodded, "Thanks."

He turned on his heel and walked back toward the apartment, "Do we have that?" Kurt trotted to keep up with him.

"No," Blaine sighed, "we can stay with Mike until we get a motel or a new apartment."

They started packing up their apartment slowly, both stuck in internal dialogues, both fighting the inevitable.

Kurt sighed and stood. He walked slowly over to Blaine and knelt in front of him, pressing a quarter into his hand. "Flip."

"What?" Blaine stared down at the quarter.

"Flip it. Heads, LA. Tails, New York. We aren't staying here."

Blaine bit his lip and wanted to argue, but decided to take this risk.

Maybe this one would pay off.

Blaine kissed the quarter, then Kurt and threw the quarter high into the air and caught it swiftly. With his hand over it, he took a deep breath and looked at Kurt again before pulling his hand off of the quarter.

"Tails," Kurt breathed.

* * *

><p><strong>*sighs* Reviews?<strong>


	15. New Beginnings

**No words but THANK YOU for taking this journey with me. If you need me, I'll be over at Daddies' Girls for awhile.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15Epilogue**

**1 ****Year Later**

"Blaine!" Kurt ran into the shabby apartment the two shared. "Blaine!"

Blaine emerged from the kitchen, an apron wrapped tightly around his body and flour covering his hair, hands, and pants. "Yes?" the timid smile on his face told Kurt that he already knew the news.

"I got the part!" Kurt flew into Blaine's arms and allowed himself to be spun a few times, not caring that Blaine got flour on his sample sale clothes. "I got it, Blaine! I'm actually going to be on Broadway! Well…off-off Broadway, but still!"

"I'm so proud of you," Blaine chuckled in his ear, "But I can't say I'm surprised."

Kurt leaned backward and pressed a few kisses all over Blaine's face, his legs still hitched around Blaine's waist. "Did you really think I was going to get it? I mean, really?"

Blaine nodded vigorously, "I really did. I mean…you are absolutely phenomenal, Kurt. You are going to light up that stage and kill everyone in that audience. And I'm going to be there, every single night."

Kurt giggled but shook his head, "Blaine, you have to study!"

Blaine wrinkled his nose but knew Kurt was right. He knew that he had to study for all of his music tests and he still needed to pass the Praxis Exams to be certified to teach. "I will…but you are going to be amazing, Kurt."

Kurt brought his legs down and wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist instead, pulling him in for a long kiss. "Hmm…" Kurt murmured against Blaine's lips, "we don't get to do this enough."

Blaine nodded and pressed his forehead against Kurt's, "You're right, we don't. Which is why," he pulled Kurt back a few steps to see through the arched doorway to their kitchen, "I made this for us."

Kurt looked through the kitchen and into the dining room on the other side. Blaine had somehow moved the table and the floor was covered with a blanket. "A picnic?"

"Just like old times," Blaine muttered.

But it wasn't, instead of a free park with weeds instead of grass, there were candles that flickered off of the beige walls, casting a romantic light on everything. The food was warm and cooked instead of carried in – but one thing was still the same, it was still all Blaine.

"Come here," Blaine took the winter coat off of Kurt's arm finally and walked backwards, cupping Kurt's hand in his own.

Kurt sat down cross-legged and Blaine sat right across from him, never parting their hands. "I am so unbelievable proud to call you my own," Blaine said tearfully, "I know…I know this past year has been tough, Kurt. However, I am so glad we stuck it out because I cannot imagine a better moment than being here with you right now."

Kurt ducked his head and studied their clasped hand s for a few moments. The hand he held in his meant so much more to him than he ever thought anyone would.

This was the hand of the man who loved, cherished, and brought him back to life.

This was the hand of the man who had given up everything to be with him in two of the harshest cities in the world.

This was the hand of the man he was going to spend the rest of his life with, even if they both hadn't made the movements for that yet.

They ate in silence, both stopping every few minutes to just stare at the other. Occasionally they would catch eyes and look away, before blushing and glancing back at each other and smiling.

It surprised them both how simple they'd become once they moved to the city. They still fought and still nit-picked at the other occasionally, but it was different than before, this was the type of relationship that was built to last, not one that was going to fizzle out in a few months.

Blaine stood and grabbed Kurt's hand, "Dance with me?"

Kurt nodded, "Always," when he stood Blaine grabbed the remote to their iHome (their most expensive purchase) and the music started. Kurt grabbed Blaine and cradled him in his arms, wanting the boy to feel just as special as Kurt felt.

_Something's gotten all over my head  
>And it won't leave me alone<br>Neon when you come on  
><em>

They still had a lot to figure out and they were living paycheck to paycheck from a Starbucks and music lessons at a local shop, but they were making it work.

_Something's gotten all over my head  
>And it won't let me go<br>Neon when you come on  
><em>

Kurt pressed a kiss into Blaine's loose curls, thinking for a moment about how much he needed a haircut. He snuggled in close, now both just holding each other instead of dancing.

_Something's got a hole in my head  
>And I didn't know<br>Neon when you come on  
>Come on<em>

Eventually they were just standing, the music barely causing them to sway. Instead, they let their tired bodies hold each other up. They were still working just as hard as they had been, but instead of being miserable, they were happy and doing what they loved.

_It brings a new type of grace  
>And it keep coming back for more<br>And it leaves me with a shimmering face  
>And it keep coming back<br>For more_

"You do realize I'm never letting you go," Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Kurt laughed, nipping playfully at Blaine's ear.

_And it brings a new type of grace  
>And it keep coming back for more<br>And it leaves me with a shimmering face  
>And it keep coming back<br>For more  
><em>

As they danced the candles burned out around them, the only light in the room now the light from the bar below their apartment. The light cast a blue and green glow throughout the room.

_Neon when you come and go  
>Neon when you come and go<br>Neon when you come and go  
>Neon when you come and go<br>Neon when you come and go  
>Neon when you come and go<em>

_And it brings a new type of grace_  
><em>And it keep coming back for more<em>  
><em>(Neon) And it leaves me with a shimmering face<em>  
><em>And it keep coming back<em>  
><em>For more<em>

Images of the picnic they two shared in a park flashed in Kurt's mind. That was the day that he thought had changed his life, but he was so, so wrong.

Maybe that day was today, instead.

Or maybe it would be a five years when he would land his first Broadway role.

Or in eight years when he would lead a Broadway show.

Or perhaps it was in three years when Blaine graduated college.

Or two months after that when he got a job at a performing arts school.

Or maybe it was only three months from now, when Blaine would propose.

Or a year and a half later, when they would marry each other.

Or seven years later, when they would adopt a beautiful baby boy.

Kurt couldn't help but think that every day with Blaine changed his life.

Blaine couldn't help but think that ever day with Kurt was a gift he didn't deserve.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm going to miss them.<strong>


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